Transition
by thirdwatchfanatic
Summary: STORY FINALLY COMPLETE! WARNING: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU ARE A FAN OF ANGST! The events in this fic take place sometime before the end of season five. I prefer to remain as true to the series as possible. Will the new Bosco Yokas partnership last?
1. Chapter One

Half asleep, Bosco pressed the snooze button on the clock radio for the third time. He was accustomed to doing it most mornings and could perform the task without opening his eyes. He knew that with each press, he was guaranteed an additional seven minutes of blissful rest before the next alarm. The clock's mode was set to music which sure beat the shrill and obnoxious beeping sound the contraption could also be set to emit. The only thing worse than getting up on a Monday was having to get out of a warm, cozy bed on a rainy Monday. He thought there was a song about that but he couldn't say for certain. It was only six thirty am and he had several hours until he had to be at the Precinct.

Turning in shortly after midnight, he was determined to get up early and go for a run. He even considered going to the range for target practice. However, his good intentions regarding either activity diminished a little more with each passing minute. He lay in bed trying to convince himself that the weather was perfect for a run. He hadn't gone for a strenuous jog in a while and knew he would feel invigorated and ready for the day that lay ahead. Even though he made up for his laxed exercise routine almost daily by chasing the City's low-lifes, he sometimes missed the rigorous work-outs he was dedicated to while in the police academy.

Forcing himself out of bed, Bosco quickly finished his morning ritual before any more precious time elapsed. He grabbed his NYPD sweats and decided to forgo breakfast. He certainly couldn't run on a full stomach and actually wasn't even hungry yet. He picked up his keys from the end table and headed downstairs, exiting the apartment building into the damp, gloomy weather.

* * *

Faith awoke to the typical morning before school banter between her children. As usual, Emily was ready for the day and Charlie wasn't.

"Make sure you both have everything you need today." She heard Fred say. "Hey babe, you up?" Her husband called into the bedroom as he walked by on his way to hurry their tardy son.

"Yeah...I'll be right out!" Faith responded while hurrying to dress. Yesterday's shift was hectic and she slept well because of it.

She and Fred planned to drop the kids off at school and enjoy a quiet breakfast together at Stan's Diner, Fred's favorite place for pancakes and sausage. It was the one guilty pleasure he would not deny himself even though he was on a fairly strict diet since the heart attack. Afterwards, Faith would take her husband to work and use the truck to run errands before her shift.

"Let's go Charlie!" Emily uttered in frustration. "Do you really need to take this long?"

"Geeze Em, I'm ready so quit nagging and let's go!" Charlie answered with some annoyance. He hated when his sister made a big production of being punctual. "We're not leaving home any later than we usually do!" He protested. "Besides, what's your hurry any way?" He asked as the reason gradually came to him. "Oh yeah! I almost forgot! Must be the new flavor of the month!" The youngster laughed.

Faith interrupted before her oldest could respond to the jibe. "All right you two! That's enough! Go down to the truck with your father and I'll meet you there." She called to her family as she closed to bathroom door. Although she could certainly do without the arguing, mornings were her favorite time of day. She wished Fred and the kids felt the same. It would surely make getting ready a little less chaotic.

It had been three months since her return to active duty from desk duty and things seemed to be going smoothly during the transition. Bosco had been partnered with a few different officers during the time she was at home recuperating and he seemed to be ready for the stability of a permanent partner, even though, she knew, he never expected that partner to be herself. Now, if she could just get Fred to be a little more open-minded regarding the subject. He seemed more at ease with it than he was at first but she could tell he still had reservations.

She could understand her husband's lack of acceptance regarding the matter because of the whole Noble thing, however, she trusted Bosco as much as, if not more than, any officer she could possibly be paired with. In fact, Bosco tried hard to prove himself to her everyday and even though his gung-ho attitude was somewhat annoying at times, she knew that his protective gestures were, in his mind, a way he felt he could perhaps redeem himself to her.

Bosco was a good cop and he strived to excel in every way on a daily basis. He considered himself the very personification of "super cop". Granted, he was quicker on foot than she, but not all the perps they arrested had to be chased. She was just as capable of cuffing anyone who needed to be and her recital of the Miranda was just as adequate as her partner's. The last thing she needed was for anyone, especially Bosco, to feel protective of her, she thought to herself as she closed the apartment door.

Faith considered confronting him with certain issues but only hesitated doing so because she thought it might cause friction between them. She didn't want to jeopardize their partnership on matters he would probably deny anyway. She had other important issues at hand, for example, Emily's "flavor of the month" was something she needed to know much more about.

* * *

Sully and Davis were only a half-hour into their first shift of a double. Two tours in one day were exhausting but the overtime pay was an incentive. Well, tiring for Sully anyway, nonetheless, his young partner never seemed to mind.

Most times, even after five years, Davis still savored the job like he did when he was a rookie. Other times, usually after a bad day, he wondered how his life would differ if he were practicing law. Perhaps it would be more financially lucrative, he thought, but money wasn't everything. In his opinion, there was nothing like the rush of pursuing, arresting, and processing a perp. Getting the scum off the street was more worthwhile than sitting in an office any day.

"Ready for coffee yet?" Ty asked his partner. It was going to be a long day and the caffeine would be a necessary part of it.

"Sure, where to?" Sully asked although he really didn't have a preference. As long as the beverage was hot and strong he was satisfied.

"How about Lou's?" Ty suggested. Of all the locations to get coffee, Davis liked the mom and pop establishment the best. The take-out cups were larger than average and the contents were always steaming.

"Lou's it is!" Sully looked at his partner with a slight smirk knowing he would never finish the large, hot drink he always ordered.

It had been months since Tatiana's death. Sullivan thought of his wife daily, and her loss was, at times, still overwhelming. He was glad he had his job to focus on and an understanding friend and partner in Ty.

* * *

It was great to have Faith back Bosco mused as he pushed his legs in a steady rhythm. Nevertheless, he was more than a little apprehensive about their coupling when Faith made her demand that night at the diner.

After their short meeting, he avoided her at the house whenever possible and never brought her request up with the Lieutenant like she wanted him to. In fact, he stalled the matter as long as he could, but when Faith wanted something bad enough, she usually got it. So here they were, partners once again. He hoped, for her sake, it was the right call.

Her safety troubled him at times. Well, most times if he were being totally honest. Her well being was his first and foremost concern during their shift. As a precaution that no injury would befall his partner during a call, he always entered doors before her, approached a vehicle to identify anyone they pulled over, and chased everyone who ran. He owed it to Faith and her family.

Then there was the Fred issue. Bosco thought back to the night Faith's husband paid a visit to his apartment shortly after he and Faith reconnected. Fred, in his anger, warned him in no uncertain terms, that if his wife ever had as much as a bruise when she came home from work, there would be hell to pay. Bosco couldn't blame the guy after everything that happened. As long as he lived, the guilt of that awful time would haunt him. He often realized things could have turned out so much worse then they did.

In essence, Faith's safety on the job was now, and always would be, his main priority. Not because of Fred's threats, but because Bosco knew there could be no other restitution for his reckless past deeds. He knew it and he never forgot it.

He thought back to the many sleepless nights he spent full of guilt and remorse after she was shot and paralyzed. He remembered begging God to cure her and was beyond thankful when Monroe informed him, after a visit to the Yokas household, that she would be all right. As long as they were partnered, he knew nothing bad would ever happen to her again. He made sure of it everyday by his cautious actions.

* * *

"Look Sul, isn't that Bosco jogging toward the park? What possesses him?" Ty uttered with amusement as he watched his friend running ahead on King. "Hell...if it weren't for this double I can honestly say I'd still be in bed."

"Yeah, it's him all right...let's go rouse 'um!" Sully said with a smile as he pulled the RMP next to his running co-worker.

Bosco was lost in thought and didn't notice 5-5 Charlie until Sully drove a few feet ahead of him.

"Yo...Bos!" Davis greeted the jogging man. "I can't believe you have nothing better to do than run in the rain!"

"Hey!" Bosco greeted the duo as he leaned onto the passenger side door of the squad. "It's only a little rain." He joked. "I didn't know you were both pulling a double!"

"Yeah...well, this'll be my last one for the month. I've paid my dues." Sully responded hoping the shift would pass by quickly and uneventfully.

"What else is new...we younger guys have been picking up the slack for you old timers all along...why stop now?" Bosco teased, getting a laugh out of Davis and a smirk from Sully. "Anyway...just thought I'd go for a quick run. Hopefully, loosen up these unfailing leg muscles. Never know who...or what I'll be chasing tonight. Besides...the view's great!" Bosco observed as he caught sight of an attractive blonde with a great physique.

"Gotta run...I'll see you guys at roll call!" Bosco called back as he took off in the same direction as the blonde.

"You think maybe he's on to something?" Davis exclaimed as he noticed two equally good-looking women smile in acknowledgment as they jogged by 5-5 Charlie.

* * *

It was just past eight thirty as Faith dropped Fred off and headed to the dry cleaners. The light rain had stopped and the sun was peaking through the clouds. It poured most of yesterday with a couple of thunderstorms thrown in. She definitely didn't want to work another drenching shift.

Faith still needed to stop for a few groceries before she headed home. She turned on the police scanner Fred insisted on buying as she made a mental list of the items that she needed to purchase. She noticed Sullivan and Davis drive by and remembered they had volunteered for a double shift.

Faith didn't feel ready for overtime yet. Bosco and Sasha worked a few second shifts together before Faith would get him for the third and he was always so revved up when their watch began. He reminded her of a school kid with some kind of attention disorder until he settled down enough from telling her about the previous hours. She smiled to herself at the memory and continued on her way.

* * *

Bosco checked the time on his wristwatch and noticed it was almost nine thirty. He felt he had enough of a workout for one day. He decided he needed a drink and headed to the nearest market a couple blocks from the park. He felt invigorated and ready to take on any challenge that presented itself. He hoped the feeling would last throughout the day.

He walked to the corner of Arthur and 124th and entered Jolly's Quick Shop. He greeted the elderly cashier as he entered and continued to the back of the store to the refrigerated section.

He vaguely noticed the jingling of bells signaling the entrance of another customer as he scanned the cooler for a quenching drink. Almost anything ice cold would do. He grabbed a liter of bottled water and headed to the checkout wondering how the owner made a living running the place since it was virtually empty.

Bosco barely got to the end of the aisle when the barrel of a handgun was thrust into his chest. Startled, he took a step back and was confronted by an agitated young white male who looked to be in his late teens or early twenties.

"Look...I only have a five dollar bill on me." The stunned off-duty officer held the currency in his raised left hand with his potential purchase in the right.

"Are you all right, sir?" Without taking is eyes off the gun, Bosco asked the clerk who responded with a slow nod.

"Shut up, man!" The thief yelled at the clean-cut customer who stood before him as he took a step closer and swiftly grabbed the bill out of his hand. Never moving his weapon from Bosco, he gave the old man behind the counter a quick, angry gaze as if to warn him not to try anything foolish.

"There isn't much cash in the store at this time of day but I'll give you all I have just please don't hurt anyone!" The employee pleaded.

The unwelcome intruder demanded that the cashier deposit whatever currency he had into one of the market's bags while focusing his eyes on the store's sole customer.

After a few seconds, which seemed like a lifetime to Bosco, the robber screamed at the clerk who he assumed was stalling. "Hurry up buddy...or you're gonna have yourself a huge mess to clean up. My trigger finger's getting really sore!" He rambled on. "Move it! Now!" Even in his irrational state, he realized he needed to get out of the place before someone walked in.

While glancing around the room in search of a surveillance camera, the perp rested his eyes on the man in front of him. He noticed the insignia on Bosco's sweatshirt and a slow smile appeared on his face.

Bosco was aware of the change in his facial expression and realized the idiot must have finally noticed the lettering on his hoodie.

"Well...well...if it ain't one of New York City's finest! How does it feel to be on that side of a loaded .38...pig?" His smile fading as his bloodshot eyes gazed into Boscos' with sheer loathing. "Not too good, I bet!" He added sarcastically.

"Here's the money now please leave!" The clerk begged the man holding the gun in his shaking hand, all the while hoping to distract him from pointing the weapon at the composed customer.

The perpetrator seemed to be getting more agitated by the second. The guy he held his gun on was way too calm, like maybe he knew something that he, himself, wasn't aware of. A silent alarm perhaps. He knew he had to make his get away but the urge to torment his captives was overwhelming.

"My kid brother was shot by a City cop a couple years ago! Bastard got away with it too! Self-defense my ass!" The aggravated young man's voice bellowed throughout the room.

"You got what you came for so you might want to take off now." Bosco calmly addressed the thief hoping he would just leave already.

The perp had other ideas though. He hated all cops because of what happened to his brother and he especially despised the arrogant one in front of him. He raised his gun a fraction of an inch and cocked the hammer while reaching behind his back for his self-proclaimed stash.

A mere second later, Bosco caught sight of the clerk grab hold of something and the store echoed with a loud, vibrating discharge.

* * *

Would love any reviews you submit! Thanks!


	2. Chapter Two

The cashier discreetly raised the broom he kept behind the counter and used the handle to hit the extended arm of the hardened criminal. The nudge was enough to make him loose his aim, which Boscorelli was more than a little grateful for. Getting shot was definitely not on his list of fun things to do, however, he briefly pondered, an arm wound would be preferable to a chest wound any day.

Bosco felt the bullet enter and exit his upper left arm. The subtle jolt of the shot was enough to push his left side into some shelves, scattering various canned goods onto the floor. Momentarily distracted and somewhat shocked, he instinctively grabbed his arm and felt a warm wetness on the shirt sleeve.

Wasting no time the thief charged for the exit, gun and bag in hand.

"Call 9-1-1!" Bosco ordered the elderly man who, he realized, may very well have saved his life.

Damn! He felt pain but not enough to stop him from chasing the gun toting perp out of the store. "Stop jag-off!" Bosco shouted, his anger flowing freely. There was no way the bastard was gonna get away...

Dodging vehicles and pedestrians alike as he pumped his legs to their limit, he was well aware of the dull, throbbing sensation his wounded arm emitted. He didn't care about the discomfort. He wasn't about to let some skel get away with stealing while he was witness to it, and he surely wasn't going to let him get away with shooting him.

"Get out of the way!...Move!" He yelled to the unsuspecting individuals going about their business as he chased the shooter. "Step aside!" He pleaded to a woman pushing a stroller.

* * *

"Central to any available units, respond to an armed robbery call on King and 124th. Young, Caucasian male suspect on foot wearing a light blue hooded sweatshirt and dark jeans last seen running Southbound on King reportedly with an injured off-duty police officer in pursuit. Be advised, suspect is armed and has fired a weapon..." The dispatcher's voice reiterated.

"5-5 Charlie to Central..." Davis responded. "Show us in route to King and 1-2-4!"

"It's too early for this crap!" Sully exclaimed as he turned on the lights and siren while making a U-turn in the middle of a moderately busy intersection on Amsterdam and 130th.

* * *

Faith packed the few groceries she purchased into the truck. She was anxious to get home and finish her chores and perhaps relax for an hour or so before her shift. Well, the relaxing part was, anyway, more or less wishful thinking. The little free time she allowed herself always seemed to fly by much too quickly. She hoped to be home before midnight and was determined to spend some quiet time with her husband. She knew Fred felt neglected lately so she planned to surprise him with a quiet and romantic, although very late dinner.

Faith put the pick-up in drive and was just about to pull away from her parking spot as she heard the call from Central on the scanner. Aware that she was only a few blocks from the general location of the robbery, she decided to head home that way. Since an off-duty officer may have been injured, she knew she needed to assist in any way possible.

* * *

Sully sped down King and continued South until he arrived at 124th. Five-five Edward was already on the scene as Sullivan slowed the RMP while opening the driver's side window. He carefully maneuvered the squad to the opposite lanes of the street, blocking some of the Northbound oncoming vehicles.

"We've got things covered here Sully...keep heading south! A witness claims two individuals on foot were heading in that direction. One of them had possession of a handgun!" Gusler's partner, Roy Hansen hurriedly informed 5-5 Charlie's occupants.

"Thanks Hansen!" Sully replied as he continued the pursuit.

"Clear here Sul!" Davis relayed to his partner as they merged into the right lane of traffic and were once again Southbound.

They continued for a few blocks while scanning the sidewalks and cross streets for any sign of the suspect and his pursuer.

"I don't know Ty...we should have seen them by now." Sully uttered in dismay. "Maybe I should turn around and back track."

Within moments, Davis caught sight of someone ahead, on foot, quickly turning the corner and proceed West on 119th. "Turn right on 118th!...I just saw somebody in gray sweats head West on 119th...maybe we can cut them off! And Sul...it kinda looked like Bosco!" Davis exclaimed in disbelief.

"What the hell...?" Sully responded almost knowingly. "Why am I not surprised!" He added in exasperation.

"There, Sully!" Davis exclaimed, finally noticing the fleeing perpetrator on the next block matching Central's description.

"I see him!" Sully noted while attempting to turn the corner and block the armed subject, who, noticing the approaching squad, cut across the street and ran on the opposite side of the road and into a nearby alley.

* * *

Faith pulled up to Gusler who was reaching into his RMP. "Everything okay here?" She asked.

"Faith?...Hi!...Yeah...We're just getting some information together for the report." A somewhat surprised Gusler answered her.

"I was in the area and heard something about an off-duty officer pursuit on the scanner." She said as she motioned to the apparatus. "Shots fired?" She added.

"Yeah...5-5 Charlie's somewhere around 118th. I think I heard something about the pursuit leading into an alley." Gusler informed her.

"All right Steve...thanks! I'll see you later...stay out of trouble!" She teased.

* * *

Bosco's arm ached but he wasn't about to stop now. He'd been shot before but luckily his vest stopped any serious injury. This was the first time a gun shot wound he had the misfortune of being the recipient of actually drew blood. He didn't dwell on his sorry state though. He wanted this collar for himself and if memory served him right he was pretty sure he never arrested anyone while off-duty before.

The culprit was fast. Faster than he himself. He couldn't let the skel get away he vowed as he gained a yard or two while the mope picked himself up after he tripped on the sidewalk. "You might as well stop asshole...!" The officer called to the designated idiot. "Your gonna have to decide if you wanna spend tonight in the pokey or the hospital, dimwit!"

Bosco lost sight of the guy for a second or two as the young man ducked around the corner of a boarded up building on 117th. As he turned the corner after him, the jag-off fired the .38 in Bosco's direction. Fortunately, he missed his target, twice, and hit the wall of the building instead. This caused the police officer's anger to escalate even more. He was actually afraid of what he was capable of doing to the moron when he would finally catch up to him.

* * *

"Sully...look...it definitely is Bosco! No doubt the off-duty officer giving chase!" Davis said noticing only his co-worker just as they heard a couple of rounds go off.

"5-5 Charlie to Central...I need back-up on Arthur and 118th! Shots fired! I repeat...shots fired!" Sully shouted into his radio.

"10-4 Charlie...available units respond to..." Sully heard the dispatcher begin as Davis opened his door to exit the currently slow moving vehicle.

"Let me out, Sul! I'll go around the block and meet up with Bosco." Davis informed his driver while he removed his .357 from it's holster.

"Be careful, Davis!" Sullivan yelled to his on the run partner as he blocked the alley with the patrol car.

* * *

Faith was unable to control the growing anxiety she began to develop. Call it gut instinct or maybe woman's intuition but she knew she wasn't going to like whatever she encountered upon her arrival at 5-5 Charlie's location. Sully's most recent call to Central certainly did nothing to alleviate her fears.

* * *

Bosco noticed a squad pause a block away as he kept his eyes on the running fool. He would never get away now - not with another officer in pursuit. The bastard's ass was grass!

Boscorelli headed for the alley knowing the perp was out of ammo. The clicks of the gun he fired were audible to him earlier. He was more concerned that he would lose sight of his prey than of any further injury he might sustain.

Bosco turned the corner of the brick structure into the alley rather cautiously, at least he thought so, and was immediately greeted by the impact of a hard object connect with his left shoulder. He crumbled to the ground in excruciating pain as he attempted to catch his breath from the unexpected attack.

The robber and cop shooter dropped the lead pipe he swung at the officer and cleared a fairly high wooden fence as he made his hasty get away, never looking back at his pursuer.

Davis rounded the East Side corner of the building as he witnessed the suspect swiftly maneuver the fence. He rushed to the barrier and looked over it but the subject was gone. Turning back to the building he just passed, he saw Bosco lying on the street, grasping his left shoulder with his right hand.

"Bos...you okay?" Davis called to him as he grabbed his radio while rushing to the fallen man's side. "Sul...in the alley...Bosco's down! I'll call for a bus!"

"No!...Davis...don't call...please...I'm fine...just help me up!" His fallen, breathless friend asked as he clutched his injured upper arm.

"Bosco...your arm...it's bleeding!" Davis observed as Sully cleared the corner.

"It's just a scratch." Bosco replied, trying to catch his breath as he slowly stood, aided by the younger officer. He leaned forward holding his shoulder, silently thankful for the help Davis bestowed. The pain was clearly evident on his face.

"Here...sit down on this crate." Sully ordered and Bosco didn't argue. "You call for a bus?" The older officer asked his partner.

"No!...I don't need one!" Bosco protested giving them both a look they understood all too well. "You sure he's gone?" He directed his question to Davis as he gradually regained his ability to breathe more easily.

"Yeah...he's outta sight Bosco...I'm sorry man." Davis apologized as he took a step closer to the injured officer.

"Look, Bosco...if your not going to let us call for a bus then your only alternative is to take a ride to Mercy with us." Sully demanded as the sound of approaching sirens announced the arrival of reinforcements and a figure no one immediately noticed.

"What happened? My God...Bos...are you all right?" The female half of 5-5 David asked as she approached the trio.

"What are you doing here, Faith?" He asked, totally unprepared by her unexpected presence. The same thought occurred to the other two officers but they did not vocalize their query.

"I was shopping nearby, heard the call on the scanner and felt the need to check things out. What happened to your arm?" She questioned, the concern evident on her face.

"He was shot by some skel he was chasing and won't let us call for a bus or give him a ride to Mercy." Sully announced, obviously annoyed at the younger officer's lack of cooperation. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Faith." He stepped away for a few short seconds and acknowledged the arrival of their backup and noticed Davis filling in the officers on the situation.

"Bosco...whether it's a scratch or not, you still need to go to a hospital...Mercy's the closest...you'll probably need a few stitches and a Tetanus shot." Faith, in mother mode, informed her partner. "If you don't want to ride with EMS, I'll take you in the truck."

"Are you kidding?...There's no way I'm getting into Fred's Special Edition Harley-Davidson Truck. He hates me enough, Faith!" Bosco stated. "All he needs is to see a drop of blood...especially my blood...then what...you know he'd go ballistic!"

"All right! That's enough Bosco!" Sully had had it. "Davis and I are taking you in the squad. Either you get in unattended or we'll drag you but we're leaving...now...let's go!" The senior officer stated with no nonsense authority.

Bosco was outnumbered and knew there was no point arguing the matter. "Okay...okay." He gave in and begrudgingly walked to the RMP as Davis opened the door.

"You'll thank me tonight when the pain medication kicks in." Sully reminded the stubborn off-duty patrolman.

"I'd be more thankful if you woulda caught the jag-off." Bosco stated with some sarcasm. He knew they were probably right about the medical attention but it could have waited. Tracking down the perp before he got too far was much more pertinent.

"I'm riding along Sully...you can bring me back for the truck later." Faith stated as she rushed to the RMP.

* * *

They arrived at Angel of Mercy in record time, undoubtedly due to the lights and siren Faith insisted they use, to Bosco's chagrin.

"I'll get a wheelchair..." Faith announced as Sully opened the door for her.

"What...no way! I can walk!" Bosco couldn't help but express with some annoyance. He was more than capable of walking a few yards.

Though his wait was minimal, there was way too much fuss exhibited for a minor flesh wound, he briefly mused as he was attended to.

Shortly after their arrival, the second shift Lieutenant and Sergeant showed up to check on Bosco for themselves and were plainly relieved the injury wasn't more serious. Even though Bosco insisted he was more than fit for duty, his supervisors were unmoved by his protests of staying home the rest of the day and restricted duty for at least a few days thereafter. He knew that no amount of arguing on his part would sway either man and he finally gave in. His only consolation was the fact that he would be allowed to view the surveillance film and precinct mug shots as soon as possible.

* * *

Bosco entered his apartment and savored the sight of his well used sofa. He appreciated the ride home from Faith and her temporary partner, who came back to the hospital to pick him up after roll-call, but he was convinced he would surely go insane if she asked him if he would be all right one more time!

It was a long day and Bosco was relieved to be home. The robbery, getting shot, the fugitive perp, eighteen stitches and one Tetanus shot later caused the afternoon to fly by. Dr. Hickman, the ER Physician, wrote a work excuse for a few days of rest but he was able to finagle a bit, convincing her his arm really did feel pretty good after all, and got her to change her initial recommendation to two days of rest and a less amount of light-duty shifts than she originally insisted on. He planned to present the note to Lieutenant Swersky later tonight. He decided he wanted to get a look at the film and pictures while the incident was still fresh in his mind.

Bosco took a Vicodin the Doctor prescribed and laid down on the sofa, TV remote in hand. He was asleep in a matter of seconds which turned to hours, totally oblivious to the eleven o'clock news broadcast, highlighting the events in the little store on the corner of King and 124th...

At the same moment, the clerk at an all night market on Bleecker and 110th lay dying in a pool of his own blood as a young white male, wearing a light blue hooded sweatshirt and dark jeans, ran unnoticed from the building - a bag of cash and a .38 gripped firmly in his hands.

* * *

Please take a moment to critique! I would love to hear from all who have read!


	3. Chapter Three

The piercing, annoying melody continued. He ignored it numerous times during the course of the morning but decided to finally answer his cell phone. The relentless caller was obviously anxious to divulge pertinent information.

He opened his eyes and reached for the phone on the coffee table, forcing his body to cooperate. He realized he dosed off with the television on and noticed the morning news show was currently broadcasting the day's weather.

The time display on the phone showed eight o'eight am. He was more than a little surprised he slept as long as he did and willed himself to sit up, aware of the stiffness in his neck and back from his night on the sofa but even more conscious of the soreness of his left arm and shoulder.

He noticed the number of the incoming call belonged to Faith's home phone and answered while he slowly positioned himself upright, as much as his aching body would allow.

"Yeah...it's me..." Bosco answered unable to completely conceal the discomfort and exhaustion in his voice.

"Hey...how are you doin?" Faith asked with concern.

"I'm good." Her partner answered, wondering what could be so important as to warrant such an unmerciful awakening.

She continued, feeling bad to have disturbed him and not completely satisfied that he was fine. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No...you didn't." He lied. "I was just getting ready to go to the house and check out the surveillance video from yesterday morning." He exclaimed, berating himself that he hadn't done so last night. The sooner the suspect was in lock-up, the better.

"Bosco...did you watch the news yet?" She asked with hesitation. He didn't seem to be aware of the events of another robbery late last night. A crime that, so far, matched the same modus operandi as the one committed at Jolly's.

"No...not yet...why?" He could tell she was trying to break something to him gently. "What happened?"

"The shooter from the robbery you were involved in, Bos...he struck again last night at an all night market on Bleecker at 110th. She continued with uncertainty, knowing the news would upset him. "At least that's what the MO points to."

"...and?" He asked, getting annoyed by her evident stalling.

"Bosco...he shot and killed the night-shift employee sometime before midnight. The victim was found in the back of the store early this morning. The market's film has already been viewed by the detective's and as far as they can tell, the description of the perp in both store robberies seems to be a probable match."

It was awful news he never expected and he knew he was to blame. Even if the blame was indirect. He let the skel get away and there was no excuse in the world to justify his inability to perform his job, even though he was off-duty, he needed to be held accountable. He was there.

"Are they sure?" He quietly asked, knowing they were or Faith wouldn't have called him.

"As sure as they can be. The perp's face is somewhat unclear in the video because of the hood but the clothing looks identical." The silence on the other end pained her. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. "Bosco...you can't blame yourself!"

Faith knew her partner felt remorse and would blame himself for the tragic outcome of last night's robbery. "That guy shot and could have killed you. You did all you could to apprehend him." She tried to reassure him and perhaps ease his feelings of guilt. "Even though we don't have much, somebody out there might still be able to recognize him, Bos. He won't get away with murder."

Bosco stood up and paced the small living room trying to absorb all the information his partner relayed. He felt like shit and the news he just received only made him feel worse, if that were at all possible. "I'm going to the Precinct, Faith. I need to see the films for myself. I'll talk to you later." He said as he closed their conversation and tossed the phone onto the sofa.

After a few more seconds of nerve-racked pacing, he sat back down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He proceeded to slowly massage his temples as various thoughts of how he might have handled yesterday's situation differently entered his mind.

He screwed up, big time, and now an innocent person was dead. With more effort on his part, he could have had the jag-off he pursued twenty-four hours earlier.

What if he would have had his off-duty weapon? He usually did. What made him leave it at home this time? Maybe he should have fought the bastard and wrestled the gun away from him, or perhaps thrown something at him to slow him down as he ran. If his chase had resulted in a capture, the perp would have been in custody and the robbery victim would still be alive.

No matter how he tried to second-guess his actions, his feelings of incompetence were present. He didn't do enough and nothing could change that fact. By letting the scum-bag get away, he failed and someone died because of it. Somehow, he had to remedy the incident. He knew it could take days or even weeks but he would not give up until an arrest was made.

He quickly washed as best as he could and threw on a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt, grabbing the jacket and keys which conveniently hung by the door and hurriedly left the apartment. He vowed to spend the next several hours, even days, gathering information on the most recent robberies in the Big Apple.

* * *

It was shortly after one in the morning when the unkempt young man entered the building with various neon signs and lights positioned above the door. He was underage to be considered a patron of such an establishment, but the seedy man at the entrance always let him in. For a few extra bucks, he was allowed to stay for hours at a time. He didn't come here often, but there was no where else he could go. He had heard from a reliable source that the cops were looking for someone matching his general description, which would probably account for a large percentage of the city's population, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Maybe the cops already knew who he was, therefore, he didn't dare go to the pool halls he frequented on the possibility the buildings were under surveillance, besides, he didn't think he'd be welcome at them after the threats he bestowed on the hall's regulars if they gave him up. With the right motivation, someone would eventually rat him out, he was sure of it. The pigs had ways of making people talk. He didn't have any family or friends to crash at. His parents moved to Florida after the death of his brother. They never got over the shame, his father proclaimed on more than one occasion, of raising two worthless sons.

He briefly wondered if his inability to maintain friendships would hurt him in the long run. Even a casual acquaintance would probably welcome him in his time of need and grant him temporary refuge. At least as long as the good Samaritan was unaware of the circumstances surrounding his visit.

He didn't trust anyone and hadn't had a close friend since elementary school. He and his brother were close. Danny was his best friend until that bastard cop killed him. He'd been truly alone since the fateful day his brother died. Soon after, the streets became his home. Now the cops could be looking for him and they were pulling all the stops in doing so.

Last night's shooting was an accident. The guy working behind the counter argued about giving him the money. The gun went off as he attempted to jump the counter to collect it himself. He got forty six dollars for his trouble, not even enough to make a buy, and the guy in the store got a death sentence for his uncooperation.

If things weren't bad enough, his small supply was running low and the urge for a hit was overwhelming, but the need to stay out of sight won over, for now. He had to stay hidden until he could figure out a way to leave the city, which of course, would be his last resort.

He leaned his chair against the wall of the small booth and fell into a restless sleep as a scantily clad woman danced for him behind the glass partition.

* * *

It was Bosco's first day back on patrol since the shooting. He spent the last two weeks on desk duty scanning mug-shots while attending to work-related matters, and endlessly going over the videotapes during his breaks. The clothing worn by the criminal in both robberies was identical, right down to the stain on the left sleeve of his sweatshirt.

The films were clear enough, but the robber's face was pretty well hidden by his hood. Even so, anyone who knew him might be able to identify him.

As good as the police sketch artist's rendering of the suspect was, no one came forward to identify him. The pictures were shown at various bars and pool halls in the vicinity of the robberies, but to no avail. The police had no useable fingerprints either. Another plus in the wanted man's favor.

Lieutenant Swersky finished roll-call with his usual words of caution to his troops. He had gone over the recent convenience store murder/robberies and informed the room of officers that the suspect was still on the lose and they were no closer to an arrest then they were eighteen days ago. Unfortunately, the photos in their possession allowed the wanted individual his undeserved freedom. If anyone knew the identity of the man, they were not admitting to it. He was in the wind and managed to stay there.

"Boscorelli...stop up front on your way out." He added.

"Yes sir." The patrolman responded, wondering what his supervisor wanted. He hoped he wasn't going to insist on a more limited workload. After all, he did have medical clearance to return to full duty. No, it must be something else.

"I'll get the radios and meet you outside." Faith said, interrupting his thoughts. He only nodded in agreement.

Bosco approached Swersky as a few of the exiting officers he hadn't seen in awhile, acknowledged his return. When they were finally alone, the Lieutenant began with a sincere greeting. "It's good to have you back Bosco...how are you doing?" He asked with genuine concern.

"I'm fine boss. It was only a flesh wound." Bosco explained, anxious to get out on patrol. "I'm more than ready to be back in 5-5 David."

"You know...Homicide is working the murder/robberies, non-stop, all shifts." Swersky stated.

"I know." Bosco nodded in agreement wondering where this discussion was leading.

"Look Bosco...I'm gonna level with you. I received a call from Frank over at O'Mally's. He said you've stopped by there every night for the past two weeks questioning his patrons." Swersky sternly stated. "You know it's against Regulation to take on an investigation on your own and you know the reasons for it."

Okay Bosco thought, here goes, as long as he doesn't know about the fight.

"Also, he mentioned the confrontation between you and one of his customers." Swersky added, with a more serious tone than before.

Oh great! He does know about the fight. "So then...you know?" He looked down sheepishly for a moment as he quietly responded.

The Lieutenant continued. "If you're referring to the melee you were a part of last night...then yes...I know." He wasn't quite as angry as Bosco imagined he would be. "I know you want this guy Bosco. We all do...before he kills or injures someone else. He obviously has no qualms about shooting police officers or anybody else for that matter."

"I let the guy get away boss and he killed a defenseless person because of it." Bosco said with genuine regret. "I need to do more than drive around and hope I spot him on the street somewhere!" He continued, raising his voice more than was acceptable, especially when addressing a superior.

"You are, Bosco...by doing the job that's assigned to you. You know there's an APB on the perp. I don't need to tell you how often an All Points on a suspect has led to an arrest." Swersky stated emphatically. "I also don't need to remind you that we can't take what happens on the Job personally. You need to detach yourself from this case Bosco. Furthermore, if I hear any more complaints regarding your off-duty involvement in any way, shape, or form, I'll have no choice but to issue a Command Discipline. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir." Bosco acknowledged the man, realizing how this could have gone so much worse for him. He didn't need another Discipline on his record, but it still wasn't as bad as a Suspension.

"All right then...as long as we understand each other, you're free to go. We've kept Yokas waiting long enough. Remember, by the book Boscorelli." The Lieutenant reiterated as he dismissed the officer.

Bosco left the room and proceeded to descend the stairs as he caught sight of Cruz and her team processing their latest conquests. He wondered how his career might have differed if he could have stayed with Anti-Crime. The short time he worked with the unit was anything but dull, even rewarding at times, but the Sergeant had her own agenda, and he still wasn't sure what it was. If anyone needed a "by the book" lecture, it was Cruz. In fact, as far as he was concerned, it was long overdue.

He headed for the squad and noticed his partner occupying the driver's seat. He usually preferred to drive, however, as a passenger, he would be able to focus on the pedestrians out and about. He might even luck out and spot the elusive perpetrator on his personal most wanted list.

"Well...you look no worse for wear. I'm guessing everything's okay?" Faith asked.

"Everything's fine...we were just going over a few things." Bosco responded as he entered the RMP. He never told Faith about his late night, after-hours surveillances. He didn't want her involved in any way.

* * *

The shift was dragging by slowly. Two hours still remained before they could call it a day. Bosco went over his itinerary for tonight. He knew he couldn't go into any of the establishments he'd already been to, but the Lieutenant never said anything about observing the businesses from outside. He'd sit in his car until they closed and cruise the streets for a while afterward.

He certainly harbored no hard feelings towards Swersky regarding the reprimand. He was only doing his job. Anyone else would have probably suspended him.

Faith continued rambling on about the Yokas Family escapades as he pretended to listen, casting an occasional glance her way so she wouldn't notice his mind was elsewhere.

The Job. It was more than his livelihood. It was his life. He didn't have a family to go home to like his partner did. His time was not consumed by a wife or children who needed his attention, therefore, he volunteered for more over-time shifts than his counterparts did. If he didn't have a family to do good for, he would do good for the citizens of the community.

He swore to "protect and serve." He often wondered if he could lay down his life to save someone. He knew he would for a child or his partner, no question, but he honestly wasn't sure if he could for a perfect stranger. How could anyone be sure unless the opportunity presented itself?

Meal break came and went and he was looking forward to the completion of the work day. During the course of the shift, they responded to a total of nine calls in the past six and a half hours. Two car accidents with minor injuries, four domestic violence incidents (amazingly, all within three blocks of each other), one false alarm at a jewelry store, one peace disturbance call and a disorderly conduct at Finnigan's Bar. He hoped the rest of the shift would be uneventful.

* * *

The young fugitive spent much of the past two and a half weeks in various strip joints and peep shows around the city. When he was kicked out for loitering, he managed to spend short amounts of time napping at bus terminals or the subway. He hit a windfall a few days earlier when he swiped a black windsuit from a park bench, which he assumed belonged to one of several individuals playing basketball.

Upon searching the pockets, he found a money clip containing two hundred eighty dollars and two glassines of heroin. Sown into the front left lining of the jacket was a sheath housing the largest knife he had ever seen.

He completely shaved his head, and several days growth of facial hair into a mustache and goatee with a disposable razor he purchased at a pharmacy along with a pair of non-prescription eyeglasses. He even used the tip of the knife to cut a gash into his left cheekbone which formed a noticeable scar, a rather extreme move perhaps, however, one he felt necessary to further elude the authorities.

He saw the police sketch of his former self - undoubtedly from the cop's description - on the window at a pool hall he passed the other day. He was sure even the few people who knew him wouldn't recognize him with his new disguise. He even went to Jolly's on a whim to see if the elderly cashier would remember him but was told the man no longer worked there. He was convinced his luck was finally changing for the better.

* * *

A light, steady rain began to fall as Bosco searched the streets of the intersection while Faith waited for the light to turn green. It was Friday night and regardless of the weather, the city was abuzz with bar hoppers and club patrons making their rounds. As Faith prepared to accelerate into the cross street, Bosco barely noticed the young man exit the neon lit building directly to his right. The same person he came face to face with eighteen days ago. The same individual who attempted to kill him without a moment's hesitation.

The bald man saw the patrol car and instinctively stepped back a bit to avoid being seen. He couldn't believe the pig he shot was a few short feet away from him. He daringly moved forward and their eyes locked for a second or two. His new appearance apparently did the trick because the cop turned away as the driver of the vehicle continued on. He brushed his hand against his newly acquired weapon as sheer hatred and loathing consumed him.

* * *

Thank you so much for taking the time to review! It really motivates me!


	4. Chapter Four

Days passed and the detectives assigned to the case still had no clues to the man's whereabouts, or, for that matter, a positive ID of the individual. Since the second robbery a month and a half ago, which resulted in murder, the wanted man was the main suspect in three additional robberies. The crimes were committed in stores with late hours or, which were open all night and had just one employee in the establishment at the time.

Bosco continued his nocturnal quest in the hunt for his prey. He usually spent a couple of hours each night driving, jogging, or even walking in the vicinity of the robberies which all occurred within thirty blocks of Jolly's. The investigators on the case believed the fugitive probably lived within that area, at least at one time.

His late night excursions had, to date, been unsuccessful in locating the criminal. Bosco knew the longer it took for an arrest to be made, the less chance there would be for one. He realized it was quite possible that the person he sought may have left the City by now. The most recent assault occurred a week ago. He was also aware that the man's appearance might have drastically changed in the weeks that passed. He suspected a facial alteration of some sort was behind the perp's ability to remain at large.

Even though the wanted man might no longer look as he did that morning at Jolly's, Bosco was sure he would never forget the lunatic's angry, drug induced gaze. The man's bloodshot orbs were dark and deep set, and Bosco was convinced that anyone who stared into them long enough could actually be hypnotized to do his evil will.

He thought he had seen the fugitive in passing a few times and followed the suspected mope for blocks. His adrenaline rising as he eagerly pursued the unaware individual until he was able to get a good enough look before he pounced on him, only to be disappointed when he was sure it wasn't the one he sought after all.

Bosco wondered how the hunted man managed, to thus far, elude the authorities on his own. Perhaps he had an accomplice of some sort.

He knew he couldn't take the case personally. He didn't need the Lieutenant to remind him of that, however, for some reason, he couldn't stop dwelling on the cold-blooded animal that got away. Maybe he felt guiltier about the murdered clerk then he realized.

Crimes such as the robberies occurred in the City every day. Why did this one tear at him so much? The answer was, in fact, quite simple. He had more than one chance to apprehend the killer that morning, instead, he failed miserably. Not once, but several times. He was defenseless in the store, not quick enough in the pursuit, and unprepared in the alley. These may have been good enough excuses for any other officer, but not for him.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the madman would strike again and he didn't want another senseless death on his conscience. He felt it was his obligation to do everything possible to bring the fiend to justice. There was no other alternative.

* * *

The madman lounged on the tattered recliner of the dingy apartment as he stared at the fuzzy picture on the television screen and thought back to his recent travails. His last three unlawful acts forced him to reconsider his plan of attack. 

After the first two robberies weeks ago, he found it necessary to wear a skullcap to cover his growing hair and a bandanna across the lower portion of his face. He wasn't about to risk the benefits of his recent makeover, so he resorted to donning the fabric as a makeshift mask. He got rid of the stained sweatshirt and replaced it with a black T-shirt. The hood had its benefits, but the heavy fleece was too conspicuous and out-of-the-ordinary apparel for the warm, humid City nights.

In the first of the three most recent attacks, the store's employee managed to shove him hard enough to make him lose his balance as he rummaged through the cash register. In a gutsy move, the clerk took off for the exit and ran down the street as he dodged the hail of bullets that were aimed his way. Unfortunately, the shots he fired missed their mark each time and the clerk appeared to escape the incident without a scratch.

The employee in the second of three robberies wasn't as lucky. The clerk, perhaps due to a case of nerves, was unable to open the register and received a blow to the head which rendered him unconscious while the masked man helped himself to the store's profits.

The third, or most recent robbery, resulted in his own misfortune. As he made a mad dash to the store's exit, he was unable to get through the door guickly enough before the cashier aimed and fired a small caliber handgun the owner kept in a tin canister under the counter. The bullet entered and exited his left forearm before it shattered the glass door. Since the wound wasn't serious enough to warrant professional medical attention, he treated the injury himself . Even though he did get shot, he considered himself somewhat fortunate. A more serious gunshot wound would have required a hospital visit, which would lead to a police report, and in turn, a police investigation.

All of that was six days ago and he had to admit, the running and hiding aspects of his illicit career choice were exhausting.

His arm wound was healing nicely and he knew it was time to plan his next robbery. His cash supply was running low and his lucky heroin find was long gone. However, he now had another obstacle to contend with.

As hard to believe as it was, his precarious situation regarding the convenience store murder/robberies and even the fact that the cops were looking for him, diminished with his most recent tribulation.

A few days ago, his need for a hit was unbearable and he knew he had to take action. After a night of prowling the streets, he ran into some guy outside of a rave and before the illegal trade of drug and cash (which he didn't have enough of) could be made, he boldly and mercilessly, kicked the man with all his might in the unprepared fool's groin.

The shocked dealer dropped his supply of Ecstasy and Ketamine, which he in turn, grabbed off the street and took off running with, however, not before he threatened the injured man with bodily harm, or worse, if he ever laid eyes on him again.

The X and Special K were by no means his drugs of choice, but he was desperate at the time and the opportunity for an easy score was too tempting to pass up.

Due to the rave encounter, word on the street in the past couple of days was that there were people looking for someone matching his description, therefore, the cops weren't the only ones he was currently hiding from. As well as he had tried to protect his identity; his facial changes were now compromised due to his thoughtless and hasty deed. Maybe the authorities had no leads on his physical appearance, but the mysterious men in suits probably did.

His one lucky break so far, occurred the next night. A stripper at one of the clubs he occasionally went to, felt sympathy for him and gave him shelter at her apartment. This allowed him a place to crash and hide.

He thought back to the night he was leaving the strip joint and caught sight of the cop from Jollie's sitting in the passenger seat of the police cruiser. The stupid shit didn't even recognize him! It would have been so easy to take a few short steps to the vehicle while it stopped for the traffic light and cut the bastard's throat. He would have been long gone before the driver even realized what happened. The pig that brought about his vast misfortune and began the cycle of his potential doom would now be dead.

He wrapped a fresh roll of gauze on his wound and cursed the witnesses he was unable to kill in the store on that rainy Monday morning. The old cashier didn't concern him, however, he wasn't sure how or why, but something convinced him the cop was not one to give up easily. The chase weeks ago made him realize that.

If his parents could only see him now, their disgust for him would surely reach an all time high. The thought made him laugh uncontrollably.

* * *

"You look kinda' tired...have you been sleeping okay?" Faith asked her partner. Actually, the dark circles under his eyes were evident for days, still and all; she didn't broach the subject sooner knowing he would only tell her what she wanted to hear. 

She caught him nodding off at roll call earlier and inconspicuously nudged him a couple of times before Christopher noticed his lack of attention. In order to do their jobs properly, plenty of sleep was mandatory and they both knew it.

"Yeah...I'm sleeping fine...why?" He asked, annoyed with himself for letting her notice his fatigue. He knew it was only a matter of time before she would mention his exhausted appearance. The eye drops he put in each day only gave temporary relief for the redness his eyes now exhibited.

"Nothing...you just look tired...that's all." She answered, dropping the subject for now. She sensed his irked response and didn't want to risk a petty argument concerning his sleep patterns.

"I could use a cup of coffee though. Can we stop somewhere?" He asked while glancing her way, hoping to change the conversation.

"Sure, but we get a meal break soon anyway. How 'bout we stop at Stan's for a quick bite? I'm in the mood for their breakfast menu." She replied. "Besides...that place has the nicest restrooms."

Bosco smirked as he noticed the seriousness in her voice.

Faith caught sight of his facial expression. "What...they do Bos! Don't you ever check those things out? We've been to some slimy places with even slimier bathrooms." She said defensively.

"I don't care about the restrooms Faith, just the food." He answered. "Besides, I'm not hungry yet but I'll wait for you to eat. Lucky for me I don't need to use the facilities." He went on with a grin.

"No...I can wait till you're ready to eat too." She suggested. "I'll stop up the street at that little coffee shop and you can run in for a cup...okay?"

"That's fine with me." Bosco answered, never wavering his glance from pedestrian to pedestrian, hoping for a glimpse of the sought after perp as his partner pulled over to the curb.

"Can I get you something?" He asked as he exited the squad. "Unless, of course, you wanna' go in yourself and check out the bathroom stalls." He joked.

She couldn't help but smile. "Very funny. A diet soda with lots of ice would be great. Thanks."

Bosco opened the door to the small shop and was just about to enter the building when the sound of a gunshot pierced the quiet street. He instinctively semi-ducked while still holding the door handle with one hand and his drawn weapon in the other. He quickly focused his attention to5-5 David.

"Oh my God. Are you all right?" Faith screamed in wide-eyed panic as she bolted from the vehicle.

"I'm fine Faith!" He assured her. "The gunfire didn't come from in here!" He yelled to her as he visually scanned the area as a second shot brought about the sound of crashing glass.

They heard shouts for help and witnessed a lone figure flee from a building three doors away. A second later, another person ran out and chased the first around the corner while shouting at the man to stop.

"I'm on it Faith!" Bosco yelled to his partner. "Call for back-up!" He continued, and took off around the corner and out of eyesight before she could object.

Faith put the squad in gear and followed her partner while calling for assistance. "55-David to Central...shots fired on Arthur between 130th and 131st...my partner is on foot pursuit..."

Bosco caught up to the second individual, who he assumed was working where the shooting took place. The man's light colored apron was covered in splattered blood.

"Please don't let him get away. He shot my father in our store!" The man sobbed, tears flowing down his cheeks. "He didn't do anything...the bastard just shot him for no reason !"

"Sir, I need you to go back and wait for the police, I'll call for an ambulance!" Bosco yelled to the man as he continued his pursuit, filled with anticipation. Was this the work of the killer he'd been looking for all these weeks? Was this his chance to finally catch the son-of-a-bitch?

"5-5 David to Central...I need a bus on Arthur around 130th...there's a store shooting victim in that area..." Bosco shouted into his radio, making sure he gave all the pertinent information. His gun was drawn but the perp was no where in sight. He heard sirens nearing and saw 5-5 David with 5-5 Charlie pull up along side him. The officer's joined their eager comrade. 

"See where he went?" Davis asked.

"He's back here somewhere." Bosco annnounced. "We can spread out and..."

"No Bosco...we wait for back up!" Sully cut in.

"You can wait all you want Sullivan but I'm not letting this one get away!" Bosco yelled to the senior officer as he took off down the alley.

"Bosco...damn it!" Sully's shout fell on deaf ears. "Does he ever listen?"

"Not really... I'll go with him." Faith responded in exasperation as she ran after her partner. "Stay in radio contact." She yelled back.

"C'mon Davis, let's go!" Sully said to Ty as they headed in the opposite direction.

Faith caught up to Bosco and stood beside him against the brick wall of the five story building, their guns drawn as they cautiously crept towards the back of the structure.

Bosco peeked around the corner and noticed a set of stairs that led to a door on the second floor. He looked just in time to see it close and transmitted a warning. "Sully...Davis...I think he went inside...he might be on the second floor looking for a way out...be careful!"

"All the doors we've tried so far are locked!" Ty responded

"Here Davis, the lock's broken on this one." His partner chimed in as he slowly opened the door, and with utmost caution, began his assent to the second story.

Faith followed her counterpart up the metal staircase where they stood on either side of the door. "Ready?" He anxiously asked, adrenalin speeding up his heartbeat. He wanted the shooter more than anything.

"Yeah...I'm ready." Faith nervously answered.

Bosco pulled the door open, preparing himself for the gunshots he half expected, however, they were greeted by total silence. He entered the building on full alert, Faith inches behind him.

"Back me up Davis...I'm gonna take a look around!" Sullivan instructed his partner.

"Got ya Sul...watch out though, it's pretty dark in here." Davis answered, his gun drawn in self-defense mode.

"Bosco...Yokas...where are you guys?" Sully stated, almost in a whisper into his radio.

"We're on the second floor, about halfway in the room." Faith responded. "Do you see anything?"

"No...not yet." Sully replied. It was getting a little too dark for comfort and he knew they would have to halt the search in a matter of minutes. The large room looked like it was mainly used for storage. Sullivan realized the man could be hiding behind any of the crates or boxes in front of him. He slowly took a step as one of the floorboards loudly creaked. Within seconds, a barrage of gunfire engulfed the room. The two officers dove for cover as the assault continued.

"Davis!" Sully frantically shouted to his partner.

"I'm okay...you?" Ty replied, just as frantic, if not more so. He wasn't prepared for the loud hail of gunfire.

"Yeah...do you see him?" Sully asked as he visually scanned the room from behind a large wooden crate.

"David to Charlie..." Faith shouted into her radio.

"We're good Faith...keep your eyes open!" Sullivan warned as he heard a door open and noticed a sliver of daylight to his far left. "He's fleeing the building...side emergency door."

"I'm there!" Bosco shouted, seeing the dull light himself. "Where's our back-up?" He yelled in annoyance, running for the exit as Faith closely followed.

Bosco charged down the emergency stairs and heard a door somewhere in front of him slam shut followed by a dull thud. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would have the much sought after shooter in custody. He approached the exit expecting to charge through it, instead, he crashed into the steel panel with all his might.

"Damn it...shit!" He bellowed in frustrated anger. "He locked us in!" He screamed as he uselessly banged on the obstruction, forcing the door bar. He wasn't about to lose another skel. He took off down a dark hallway in search of another way out.

* * *

The rest of the evening and most of the night were spent canvassing the neighborhood. As was expected, nobody saw anything, or more likely, they didn't want to get involved. 

The shift ended hours ago and Bosco contemplated the day's events in the darkness of his bedroom. If the perp in the warehouse was the killer he pursued, the bastard managed to get away yet again. Faith tried to ease his feelings of inadequacy but her motherly lecture was not what he needed. He fought sleep but it finally claimed his exhausted body, however, it was not a peaceful slumber he would have hoped for but a restless, nightmare filled one.

* * *

The day turned out to be much better than he could have hoped for. After his hairy escape the previous evening, the criminal relished in his latest good fortune. He not only witnessed the bastard cop's feeble attempt to capture him, but he now knew something of him. The pig's name was Bosco and he worked out of the 55th precinct. He fell asleep in blissful anticipation of the day ahead.

* * *

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	5. Chapter Five

Bosco sat in his parked Mustang in front of Vinnie's Pool Hall as the second hour of his observation of the establishment neared an end. He was beat but couldn't leave now. The place would be closing soon and it would be the perfect opportunity to see who left the building. He went inside earlier hoping to get some worthwhile information, but no one admitted to knowing anything.

As he sat in the moonless night, it dawned on him that almost all of his off-duty time was spent obsessing on where the criminal was and what he might be planning. Actually, he didn't really consider his take on the situation as obsessive; however, he was sure some, like his partner if she knew, would.

When sleep was denied him, he lay in bed and imagined scenarios where he caught the skel. In some instances, he even pictured himself killing the defenseless animal as he begged for his life. He wondered if the horrific thoughts and images made him as vicious as the murderer. Perhaps they did, but, he reasoned, he had no control over his feelings, only his actions.

He stared at the dimly lit entrance to the building as a cool breeze almost lulled him to sleep while he carefully thought about what was known of the case.

Since the incident at Jolly's, the detectives assigned to the crimes spent hundreds of hours gathering information, analyzing the small amount of evidence they had, and interviewing potential witnesses.

The minute amount of blood on the shattered glass door at one of the robbery scenes didn't prove too beneficial, although they now knew that O type blood flowed through the fugitive's veins. There were no gun shooting victims treated at any of the area hospitals that night or the day after which the police did not have a report of. If the robber was shot as the clerk claimed, the wound was surely superficial.

DNA evidence would be labeled and stored for future reference and compared when an arrest was made. At this time, the surveillance videos had still proved useless, as there were no witnesses able to give a positive identification due to the criminal's wide array of disguises.

The state wide computer search of self-defense related, police officer shootings, involving male teenagers or young adults within the past three years, was now a nation wide search focusing on larger cities. The possibilities had yet to pan out, but no one was giving up. If the incident really did happen as the killer stated, there would certainly be a record of it, however, it was unclear to the detectives if the result of the shooting two years ago was death or injury. So the time consuming search continued.

The one sure thing Bosco knew was the fact that he would never stop his personal search for the perp until the killer was caught. He sat there engrossed as he watched each patron leave the pool hall and the lights finally go out.

* * *

The self-satisfied criminal relaxed in the bathtub of the stripper's apartment and contemplated his situation. He knew no one would ever even consider looking for him at the bimbo's place. He was able to sell some of the Ecstasy he acquired and the bitch that housed him insisted on giving him money almost daily. Since the strip joint operated twenty four hours a day, she spent a lot of time there and the accumulation of over-time hours and tips was quite impressive. He had a place to stay, some cash when he needed it, and sex when he wanted it. The suits didn't worry him for now. He knew finding him was not going to be easy; after all, the cops couldn't do it. 

Since the robbery attempt yesterday, the killer knew he had to lay low for awhile. The old geezer wouldn't give him the cash and he resorted to intimidating the elderly man when the .38 went off. He heard someone call from the back of the store and took off without a cent. A total waste of time and effort he thought, except of course, for the run in with the pigs in the musty warehouse. It was a close call, but the rush he experienced was well worth it, he thought as he ran more hot water. At this time, he decided to focus on the cops, or at least one in particular.

He realized he could leave well enough alone, perhaps get out of the City and never see the bastard pig from Jolly's again, but that was too easy. His life had never been easy, he reminisced. He was used to living on the edge, why change things now, besides, he wanted to make Danny proud. The cop that killed his brother got away with murder, now one would have to pay, who better he reasoned, than the one who pursued him relentlessly.

"Are you almost done in there baby...I need to shower soon or I'll be late!" The stripper called into the steamed bathroom.

"I'll be out shortly sweetness." The killer answered, in a melodic tone, disguising has annoyance perfectly. Sometimes, in fact, more often than not, the bitch irritated the hell out of him. He couldn't let her know it though. She was his meal ticket for the time being.

Yes, he would focus on the bastard cop and then maybe leave New York. For what he had in mind, he knew there would be no way he could stay.

* * *

The Lieutenant stopped by the locker room on his way to roll call. He hoped Boscorelli would still be there. 

"I'm not late am I?" Bosco asked as Swersky entered the room, knowing his supervisor never really came into the lockers unless he needed to speak to someone privately.

"No...you're not." The Lieutenant answered. "Maybe you can make a habit of it." He smiled, somewhat hesitantly.

Bosco was aware of the man's cautious demeanor and waited for him to continue while he finished dressing.

"The elderly store owner on Arthur...he didn't make it. I'm sorry Bosco." He felt awful about the killing, and for the officer's plight as well. He knew Boscorelli was taking the murder/robberies to a personal level.

"It was definitely our suspect...wasn't it?" Bosco asked, knowing before hand what the answer would be.

"Everything we have so far points to it. The ballistic tests show that the same .38 was involved in at least four robberies." The Lieutenant answered. Since there were several armed robberies committed in the City each day, they both knew it took awhile to sift through all the evidence gathered.

Bosco stood up and finished adjusting his belt and equipment. "There are two murder victims in seven robberies within six weeks that we're sure of. What's it gonna take to catch this guy boss?" The officer questioned his superior.

"As long as he stays in the City, we'll get him Bosco. So far, something seems to be keeping him here. We need to find out what that is." Swersky stated with his typical no-nonsense resolve. "You okay?"

"I'm fine Boss...I'll see you in roll call." Bosco said as the Lieutenant turned to leave. "Thank you for giving me the heads-up Sir."

Swersky nodded and left the room, leaving some personal questions he had for the officer unasked for the time being.

Bosco slammed his locker shut as he cursed under his breath. He rinsed his face with tepid sink water and gazed at the haggard image in the mirror. Not only did he look tired and worn out, but about ten years older since this whole thing started. He dried off and left the solitude of the locker room sensing the shift ahead would bring them no closer to the killer.

* * *

Bosco considered his stance on locating the top most wanted fugitive on his personal most wanted list, again only half listening to his partner as she complained about the summonses they were to hand deliver during the course of the day. 

Word on the street was that some punk had recently accosted an Ecstasy dealer and stole his precious supply. He also heard that there were people looking for the mope. The information that roused his curiosity, however, was the rumor circulating the streets that the Ecstasy thief had in fact, had ties to the convenience store murder/robberies. This was something he knew he had to investigate.

Even though the department was looking into this latest piece of news, the thought occurred to him to track down one of his informants. Some of them had been quite helpful in the past and it was certainly worth a try. All he had to do was locate one of the skels, which almost always proved difficult. None of them wanted to be seen talking to a uniformed police officer and they made themselves scarce when a patrol rolled by.

* * *

The average looking man walked into the police station and made sure not to draw any attention to himself. The cop behind the desk seemed overwhelmed by the day's tasks. He juggled two phones and note taking duties as he caught a glimpse of the man stroll towards his post. 

"Please make sure Officer Bosco gets this." The visitor stated in a most courteous manner, even though his request wasn't sincerely genuine.

"Who?" The desk sergeant asked, trying to hear above the noise and commotion in the house.

"This is the 55th, right...Officer Bosco works here, doesn't he?" The man asked, wondering for a moment if he had the right precinct.

"Yeah...I'll see that Boscorelli gets it!" The exasperated officer said as he took the envelope. "Now...if you don't mind, I'm a little busy here!" He went on as another phone line began to ring.

The content man turned and smiled to himself as he left the building. That was so much easier than he anticipated, he thought to himself. He walked a few yards down Arthur and entered a small café where he was seated at a booth with a view of the station. There he pondered how long he would stay and wait for the officer to show up. He wished he could see the arrogant pig's expression as he opened the envelope. How ironic, he thought, of the manhunt to capture him and here he was, a stones toss from a building full of cops.

* * *

"Did you know statistics prove that a police officer's life span is twenty years shorter than the average American's...kind of makes you wonder why we do this." Sully stated matter-of-factly. The shift was busy and they had more than two hours to go. 

Davis looked at his partner with a bemused expression. "Well, we both know why you do it!" He added, as Sully glanced over at his passenger.

"Yeah...why?" The senior officer asked in his sometimes gruff voice.

"Because your singing career never took off. " He smiled back. "Besides, you love this job as much as I do and you know it. You would never still be a cop after all these years if you didn't." Ty's speech was interrupted by a call from Central.

"Here we go...this day just keeps getting better." Sully said with a hint of sarcasm, hoping it wasn't another domestic.

* * *

Bosco finished writing the citation and handed it to the annoyed driver who promptly prepared to merge back into the flow of city traffic. 

"Have a nice night sir!" The officer said to the irate man in the vehicle. "And watch out for those nasty traffic lights!" He added as he headed to the RMP.

"All right Bos...you've had you jollies...now how about we take meal break already." Faith insisted, looking at her watch and noticing it was much later than she expected. The busy day was grueling and she was looking forward to a few minutes of time off for herself, but especially for her wired partner.

"What...that guy went through a red light and almost hit a cab...you saw it!" Bosco replied defensively.

"I'm just sayin'...we haven't had time for a break all evening...that's all...I'm hungry!" She reiterated. "I could go for a burger and fries."

"Oh really...sick of salad already?" Bosco teased. "What happened to, 'swimsuit seasons coming...Fred and I are taking the kids to the beach next month...I want to lose ten pounds'." He mimicked her ranting speech from a few days ago. "Should I go on?" He could see her irked expression from the corner of his eye and knew she wasn't in the mood.

"5-5 David to Central...show us on meal break." Faith radioed the dispatcher, concealing her amusement from her partner.

"10-4 David." The pleasant, professional voice replied.

"All right...all right...a burger sounds good. Just please not Stan's again...that food gives me heartburn. Give me a better place." Bosco said, realizing he hadn't eaten since ten that morning and it was currently after eight thirty pm. As long as their schedule permitted, they usually took meal break around six. He was more tired than hungry but he forced himself not to focus on his lack of sleep.

She was just about to respond to his whining when she noticed a group of individuals on the corner of Mercer and 128th. "Look Bosco...isn't that the kid we gave chase to a couple weeks ago...remember...on King...with the big mouth?" Faith asked.

"You mean the purse snatcher?" Her partner inquired. "Where?"

"Yeah...over there...the one with the red cap and all that hair sticking out of it." She answered.

"It does look like him, doesn't it?" Bosco said as he approached the small group of teens in front of a fast food restaurant.

Faith turned on the flashing lights as they pulled up to the congregation. "Yeah...it's him all right." She stated as the group took off in different directions.

"Call it in!" Bosco requested as Faith let the dispatcher know their intentions. He drove after one particular juvenile and, with the aid of his squad, was able to corner the kid into a closed off alley after a five block chase.

"Look who it is Yokas!" Bosco said as they exited the RMP and approached the runner, their flashlights shinning brightly in the darkness. "Remember us?" He directed his question to the teenager.

"Hands against the wall...now!" Faith demanded as her partner prepared to frisk the suspect.

"I didn't do nothin' man!" The adamant young punk insisted in a harsh tone.

"Yeah right...that's why you ran jag-off! Got any needles on you?" Bosco asked as he pushed the uncooperative juvenile against the building and proceeded to carefully check his pockets, hoping he wouldn't get pricked by one. "Well, well...what do we have here?" He asked, holding up a piece of folded tin foil while speaking to the young African American kid Faith just cuffed. "Well...what...you have nothing to say now? You were all mouth two weeks ago."

"It ain't mine dude!" The kid spoke up. "I found it on the street!" He angrily insisted.

"Just like that, huh?" Faith asked in fake disbelief. "How convenient."

"I ain't talkin'...I wanna' see my lawyer." He answered sarcastically.

Bosco was unable to contain the surprised disgust in his voice. "You've got to be kidding me...what are you...like fifteen, sixteen and your gonna tell me your lawyered up already?"

"Let's get him to the precinct." Faith chimed in as she escorted the prisoner to the patrol car. "He's not talking."

"Looks like Meth to me...what do you say Alfalfa...or whatever your name is?" Bosco questioned his captive as 5-5 Charlie pulled up to the trio.

"We were in the neighborhood. Everything okay here?" Davis asked as Bosco strode to his vehicle.

"Yeah...we're heading back to the house. Looks like we collared ourselves a Meth dealer!" He proudly stated, knowing full well he never field-tested the contents, he just couldn't resist rattling the kid.

"I said that shit ain't mine...I found it on the corner right before you pulled up man!" The juvenile argued as Faith closed the squad door.

"Yeah right...tell it to your lawyer." The hot-headed officer yelled at the argumentative lad. "Thanks anyway guys. See you later." Bosco stated as he entered the RMP.

"Davis and I are going to Haggerty's after shift. He challenged me to a game of darts. I want some witnesses when I win and its time for him to pay up." Sully joked.

"I'm in...I could use a cold one, maybe even a burger and fries...especially since it doesn't look like we'll get a break after all." Faith responded casting a glance at her partner. "How about it Bos?"

"Okay... but only one...I've got stuff to do." Bosco stated in a serious tone.

"At midnight?" Faith questioned in surprise, wondering what he meant.

"I need some groceries." He answered, already saying more than he should have.

He stared at Faith for a split second and in that moment, she knew he was keeping something from her. It was the same expression his face showed when he swore the "dying declaration" incident involving Cruz and himself was legitimate.

Bosco backed out of the alley and followed 5-5 Charlie, oblivious of the grinning man in the shadows he would have given anything to have in the back of 5-5 David instead.

* * *

Bosco was relieved the shift was finally over and it was time to unwind before his nightly ritual. Davis and Sullivan had already left for Haggerty's and Faith was finishing her phone call to Fred outside. He grabbed his duffel bag and headed for the exit as Sergeant Stevens rushed to catch up to him. 

"Some guy dropped this off for you Bosco." His co-worker announced, handing a small envelope to the officer as he continued towards the door. "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks Stevens...see ya." The officially off-duty cop replied. Bosco folded the envelope deciding to check the contents later. He assumed it was information from one of his CI's. He didn't get the opportunity to question any of them regarding the robberies yet, and anything else could wait.

Faith caught sight of the Sergeant handing her partner a piece of paper and saw him stuff the item into his jacket pocket, wondering if he would mention it to her. The subtle action convinced her more than ever that he was hiding something.

* * *

During the quiet ride to Haggerty's, Faith thought back on the previous month and even though she did notice his apparent exhaustion, she didn't put much emphasis on his elusive and unusual behavior. 

She pondered her partner's actions during the past several weeks. As she thought about his recent behavior, she remembered that all of their meal breaks were within blocks of Jolly's. When they ate at any restaurant or diner, he always insisted on a table near a window. The times they ate in the cruiser, he parked where the squad was not easily seen. He never mentioned the murder/robberies, but when she brought them up, he promptly changed the subject.

It was all beginning to add up and the only conclusion she could possibly come up with was that he was most likely looking for the killer on his own time.

Faith finally broke the silence. "Feel like talking?" She asked with some hesitation.

"What about?" He said as he looked at her suspiciously.

She knew this wasn't going to be easy. "Is everything okay...you seem like you don't want to go to Haggerty's anymore."

"I'm just a little tired...that's all." He answered, hoping she wasn't going to badger him about his worn out appearance. The only reason he agreed to go was so she wouldn't become suspicious if he said no.

"Bosco...we've known each other a long time...it's more than that." She continued, "I know when your tired and I know when you're keeping somethin' from me..."

"Faith...please!" He interrupted with annoyance. "You insisted on no personal conversations when we teamed back up...remember? Let's keep it that way!" He said in a raised voice as he pulled over to the curb, got out of the car, and proceeded to enter the establishment without waiting for her.

* * *

The man followed the cobalt blue Mustang at a safe distance on the bicycle he borrowed, or stole; he wasn't sure which yet, from a neighboring apartment complex days ago. He thought he lost sight of the car and its occupants a couple of times but was able to catch up to them during a few traffic light stops. Besides, he overheard their conversation in the alley earlier and assumed they were still going to Haggerty's. 

He couldn't believe his luck earlier in the evening when he witnessed the two pig's arrest the punk in the alley while he was making a buy of his own. The dealer took off and he was prepared to follow until he heard the egotistical bastard cop yelling at the kid as he got out of the cruiser. He immediately placed the voice to the convenience store where the two first met and decided right then and there to put his plan into action. It wouldn't be long now before he would avenge his little brother and gain immense satisfaction in doing so.

* * *

He saw the male cop get out and enter the bar, followed by his partner a few seconds later. He stayed well hidden for less than a half-hour, savoring the details of his scheme, when he saw the driver of the Mustang exit the building.

* * *

Bosco left the barroom alone. Faith wouldn't let up and he had enough of her questions. He asked Davis to take her home and took off while she joined in the dart game. He snuck out of Haggerty's and slammed the vehicle door shut, sitting at the wheel for a few seconds to collect himself. He accelerated onto the road at a quicker speed than was legal, totally unaware of the bicyclist who struggled not to loose sight of him.

* * *

Can't wait to hear from you - please review! 


	6. Chapter Six

His car radio blaring, Bosco tried to put tonight's events behind him. He knew his abrupt departure from Haggarty's would surely gain him a lecture from Faith, but all he cared about was getting home. He figured any unwanted speeches from his partner would perhaps be deterred if he arrived at the precinct early enough and got out of the locker room before she got there.

His partner's motherly ranting and raving was the least of his worries. He hated to admit it, but he was barely functioning on two or three hours of sleep a night and knew he needed more. He still hadn't eaten and the thought of food held no interest for him.

Bosco noticed an open market ahead, and as much as he didn't want to, forced himself to pull up to it. He was out of mostly everything he used on a daily basis and would have to replenish his stock sooner or later. He vowed to perform the chore as quickly as possible.

The caffeine tablets and eye drops were on the top of his list along with bottled water and various paper products. He grabbed a box of energy bars as he headed for the register.

Due to the recent violent robberies, he carefully and thoroughly scanned each individual in the store while he waited in the short line. Unlike the Jolly's incident, he now carried his off-duty weapon and was prepared for any unexpected trouble. He paid extra attention to where each customer's hands were placed and what they were holding as they carried on with their shopping. He was aware that three of the four male Caucasian customers, himself included, were of average height and weight, as was the man he hoped to apprehend. The thought crossed his mind of how difficult it was to locate and arrest someone so ordinary in a population the size of New York City.

He turned his head and looked up and down each aisle as he aimlessly inched closer to the counter, but none of the faces matched the one imbedded in his memory.

"Sir..."? He heard the clerk address him.

"Yes..." Bosco replied as he looked at the petite woman behind the cash register.

"I asked if you found everything you needed." The patient female continued.

"Oh...yeah, I did...thanks." Bosco answered, lost in thought as he set the few items on the counter and waited for the total amount he owed to be tabulated. He focused on the door as it opened and observed a young couple enter the building.

"That will be 21.97." The clerk said as she bagged the items.

Bosco paid and thanked the cashier as he left the store, still observant of his surroundings as he entered his car.

He recently had the Mustang detailed and was proud of the outcome. Jimmy Dougherty used to tease him relentlessly and called the car 'a chick magnet', bragging how he didn't need a muscle car of his own since the female sex was attracted to him, not a pile of metal. "Man...things sure change!" He said to himself, amused by the flashback.

Last he heard, Jimmy and Kim were together again. In fact, they were rumored to be engaged, ready to give marriage a second chance. Even though the firefighter got on his nerves at times, Bosco hoped only the best for the Dougherty clan. He briefly wondered if he'd ever marry and father a child, as a sudden, loud car horn and bright headlights brought him back to full attention.

"Watch where you are going, stupid man!" The angry taxi driver yelled out of the open cab window in broken English as he held up his middle finger in sheer annoyance.

"Sorry man." Bosco quietly responded, his voice barely above a whisper, knowing the irate foreigner never heard his half-hearted apology.

He continued for a few more blocks and parked in the small lot of the building next to his own, wishing there would be more adequate lighting. Even so, he was pleasantly surprised to find an empty spot. He preferred off street parking but very rarely got it. He felt his car was safer in the confines of a lot than on the open street. He made sure to remove his purchase and locked the vehicle.

Bosco entered the apartment building and checked his mail. The box contained nothing but bills which he tossed into his bag. He unlocked the second set of doors and trudged up the stairway to the third floor, deciding not to wait for the stuffy elevator.

He locked the apartment door as he walked in, a habit he never forgot, seeing the horrifying things he witnessed as a cop. The dining area, table ceiling light he left on day and night, still glowed to welcome him.

He set the bag of items on the table and dropped his hoodie on the sofa, completely forgetting about the envelope Stevens gave him earlier. He checked his messages and sure enough, there was a terse but furious one from his partner. He knew she'd be angry but he didn't expect her to be livid. He would have to listen to her rambling lecture at the house, or, no doubt, sometime during patrol and wasn't looking forward to it. He double checked the alarm setting which showed four am.

The urge to lay down was overwhelming and won over his nightly ritual. He was fast asleep within a matter of seconds.

* * *

The cop went about his business never noticing the man on the bicycle as he followed him to the store and to his home, nor did he see him as he watched him park and enter the apartment building. 

The murderer knew where his prey resided, that was sufficient for now. He rode off into the stillness of the night as the thunder and lightening of an approaching storm heralded its impending fury. The killer planned to return well before daybreak.

* * *

"You sure you're okay back there?" Davis asked the rear seat passenger. "I know there isn't much leg room." 

"I'm fine. You didn't have to drive me though. I could have taken a cab." Faith replied as she stared out the window. The streets were soaked by the passing storm and a light drizzle continued. She left Bosco a message earlier and would have her say in person later.

"I promised Bos I'd take you home." The handsome driver responded.

"Don't be too hard on him Faith." Sully chimed in. "We all have bad days."

"Yeah...well...his bad days have turned into bad weeks and I'm kinda getting sick of it." She answered in annoyance, remembering how immature Bosco could be at times.

"What's up with him anyway?" Sullivan questioned. "He looks like crap lately." He stated in a serious tone.

"I'm not sure Sully. He isn't saying much." She thought back to her conversation with her partner earlier that night, unsure how much information to divulge to the two men. "I do know he's hiding something though."

"You think he's in some kind of trouble?" Ty cast a concerned glance in the rear view mirror. "He's gotta know we'll do whatever to help." He turned to Faith as he waited for the light to change.

"Davis is right Faith. All he has to do is ask." The veteran officer in the passenger seat confirmed his partner's assistance, even though he knew Boscorelli well enough to believe that the younger officer usually kept private matters to himself.

"Thanks guys. I'll make sure he knows that." Faith answered as they pulled up to her building. "And thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it." She responded as she exited the car. "See you both later."

"Good night Faith." They simultaneously said as they watched her walk into the main entrance.

"Shit...man, I'd hate to be Bosco when she catches up to him this afternoon." Ty said, unsure how seriously to take the whole situation.

"Yeah...I know." Sully answered with a far away look.

"What are you thinking?" Davis asked as he pulled away from the curb.

"Bosco's place is on the way to mine. Maybe we should check if his car's there." Sullivan suggested.

"He was in a foul mood tonight. Maybe he just wanted to drink alone." Ty offered.

"Maybe...but it would be better if he did it at home than at another bar." Sully stated as they passed O'Malley's and he scanned the parking lot, relieved the Mustang wasn't there.

* * *

"Hey...everything okay?" Fred sleepily asked as Faith entered their bedroom. 

"Yeah...it is now that I'm home. I hope I didn't wake you." She said as she walked over to her husband and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"No...you didn't. I was getting worried though...it's almost two." Fred replied.

"I know...I'm sorry...I didn't think we'd be out so late and..." She began as Fred interrupted.

"Faith...the last time you came home this late from a night out, Sullivan had a crisis. Who is it now...or do I even have to ask?" Her husband persisted.

"No Fred...its nothing like that." She reassured him. "Go back to sleep." She said as she went into the bathroom, hoping she was right.

* * *

The cold blooded killer was back at 1844, 148th Street within forty five minutes. The storm passed through quickly and left the streets emptier than usual. A definite plus, he thought. 

The lingering, wormy scent of the heavy downpour filled the air. For a split second, the aroma took him back to his childhood and reminded him of the glee filled times he and his brother spent looking for night crawlers after a storm and proudly using them for fishing the next morning.

He climbed the few steps to the first set of double doors and entered the vestibule of the building. The next set of doors was, unfortunately, locked. He looked over the mailboxes in front of him until he found the one that interested him. M. Boscorelli, #10, which he correctly assumed was also the apartment number. He realized apartment ten was on the third floor, not a plus. He could see an elevator through the small glass portion on the old, thick wooden door. A possible plus. He considered himself a patient man and would find out another night.

He went back outside and headed for the parking lot. After carefully surveying the area, he went about his business, enveloped by the partial fog, very dark night, and dimly lit surroundings.

* * *

"Well...what do you think?" Davis asked as they drove by Bosco's apartment complex. "Everything looks quiet enough." 

"Yeah...I guess...slow down...there's a parking lot ahead." Sully suggested, not noticing the blue Mustang on the street. He was beginning to feel a little ridiculous as their quest progressed, nevertheless, he knew the short trip would calm any uneasiness on his part if Bosco was at home. "Hold up...I see it...there, against the wall." As meticulous as usual the older officer noted.

"That's good then...right?" Ty inquired. "If he's up to something, he probably wouldn't be at home." The young man reasoned.

"Maybe..." Sully's voice trailed off, remembering that he was at home, alone, when his fellow officers came to his rescue and escorted him to the wooded cabin that cold winter night. "Well...at least he's here. We'll talk to him tomorrow." He added, with some reluctance, nonetheless, sure it would be better to confront Bosco at the house than to wake him now. "Home James!" He teased his partner in a lighthearted manner.

"Yes Sir!" Ty played along, responding in a professional tone, as they both chuckled, unaware of the man hidden in the shadows next to the impeccable Mustang.

* * *

After three hours, two of which held the luxury of much needed sleep, Bosco climbed out of bed. The alarm would be going off shortly anyway he reasoned, wishing he could have slept longer. 

It would be getting light within the next half hour or so. There was still some time for a quick drive by of the previous murder/robbery locations. Maybe he would get lucky and spot the killer, he thought, as he finished in the bathroom.

The apartment was stifling and he craved the fresh morning air. He grabbed an energy bar, two caffeine tablets, and a bottle of room temperature water, which he, unfortunately, forgot to refrigerate last night, and rushed out the door and down three flights of stairs.

The early morning air was damp and chilly and sent a sudden shiver through his body. A feeling of foreboding or doom, he wasn't sure which since it passed in an instant, filled his senses. For a split second, he felt like an animal going off to slaughter, unaware of it's fateful destiny.

He cautiously stepped onto the sidewalk with heightened awareness and carefully scanned his surroundings. Just as he was about to chide himself on his absurd behavior, he stepped further into the parking lot but didn't get far before he noticed the horrifying sight before him.

His most prized possession was beyond ruin. He ran the few short steps to his beloved car as his anger intensified, all thought of his previous anxiety replaced by sheer stupefaction.

The deep blue, metallic factory paint on the Mustang was now mostly covered by a repulsive, fluorescent orange and green. From hood to trunk, including the roof, windows, and wheel covers, his car looked like a psychedelic display on a ruined masterpiece. A savage, graffitied act of vandalism on a priceless Picasso.

"Son of a bitch!" Bosco cursed out loud as he took in the awful sight while walking around the car and surveying the damage. "Damn it!" Who would possibly commit such a heinous act, he agonized.

He quickly ran to the sidewalk and inspected the street in both directions. He then maneuvered discreetly into the lot, but not a soul was to be seen. Upon further inspection, he realized the paint was mostly dry which lead him to believe the cruel act must have occurred at least a couple of hours ago.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket as he noticed an envelope on the windshield under the driver's side wiper blade. He delayed a second, knowing if he touched the sealed paper, he would compromise any possible evidence the area held. In that moment, desire ruled over common sense and he eagerly tore the envelope apart, removing the folded sheet of paper as his heart raced mercilessly. The message it contained brought back his earlier feelings of trepidation and doom.

**I KNOW WHERE YOU WORK AND NOW I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE -  
BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS, THERE WILL BE ANOTHER ROBBERY  
AND PERHAPS EVEN ANOTHER DEATH - HOW DOES IT FEEL TO KNOW  
INNOCENT PEOPLE ARE DYING AND YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING TO  
STOP IT! - HOW DOES IT FEEL KNOWING YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED?**

He crumbled the note as sheer dread threatened to consume him while he again took in his immediate surroundings. He was followed home! Was he being watched now? Was there another robbery by the madman as the note suggested? Another murder? He shoved the wrinkled paper into his hoodie pocket and felt the envelope he received earlier from Stevens, which he'd completely forgotten about. He pulled the envelope from his pocket and tore it open.

**YOU'LL NEVER GET ME! - WATCH YOUR BACK, PIG! - I HAVE A  
BULLET WITH YOUR NAME ON IT!**

Bosco stood in the parking lot, dumbfounded, as he considered his options while feelings of helplessness and genuine fear overcame him.

* * *

The murderer tossed and turned on the uncomfortable mattress in the sweltering bedroom for what seemed like hours. He returned to the apartment a short time ago, on the verge of another robbery he had planned to execute at a nearby convenience store. All seemed in order, however, when he felt for his gun and was ready to brandish the weapon and shove it into the face of the unsuspecting cashier, two uniformed police officers strolled into the establishment. Needless to say, he got out of the store in a hurry after purchasing a pack of cigarettes and avoiding all eye contact. Tomorrow was another day with the promise of another opportunity, he thought to himself as a wicked smile formed on his parched lips. 

He thought of his recent work of art on the immaculate metal canvas. Even though it was truly a shame to disfigure such a fine piece of machinery, he was quite pleased with his artistic endeavor. He finally fell into a restless sleep, wishing he could see the arrogant pigs surprised and anguished expression when he would first witness the colorful display.

Visions of the last night he spent with his brother filled his subconscious. It was the night they finally decided to leave the City and head out West. They didn't have enough money for two, one-way bus tickets to get far enough, but Danny, ever the optimist, had a plan, and after much convincing, and without divulging any details, got his brother to meet him in Grant Park in ten minutes.

The killer remembered the pleading look in his younger brother's eyes, and even though he went against his better judgment and didn't want to separate, Danny always had a way of talking people into doing things they weren't sure about. For a split second, he also remembered the disgusting array of smells emitting from the rotting garbage that assaulted his senses, and the large rat that scurried past him that hot, humid night in the dark alley as he waited a minute or two before he continued to the Park.

When he reached his deserted destination, he hid behind some dense brush and shrubbery next to a large oak, for what seemed like several minutes, until he finally noticed his brother nearing from the distance. He was close enough to see that Danny was out of breath with beads of perspiration covering his handsome, young face. He also noticed the bag his brother clutched close to his side.

As he prepared to crawl from his hiding place and confront Danny, two police cars, in full pursuit mode, barreled over the curb and into the pristine Park on either side of his brother. Danny tried to run but a third patrol car pulled up to trap the young man. The cops threw their RMP doors open and cowered behind them, weapons drawn and yelling demands.

Before he could call to Danny, his brother pulled out a handgun from the waistband of his jeans and raised the weapon, surely an innocent attempt to give himself up. Suddenly, the eerie silence was broken by gunshots, drowning out the screams he made to his brother, the anguish in his voice overpowered by the loud police gunfire. The terrible carnage he witnessed before him was played out as if in slow motion.

"What in God's name is Danny doing with a gun!" His mind screamed in shocked surprise as he saw his beloved brother fall to the ground. As much as he wanted to run to Danny's side, the fear he experienced at that moment caused him to back further into the dark park, never being seen by the ruthless pigs as they slowly converged towards the fallen body like a pack of hungry wolves. The cruiser headlights and spotlights reflected off of the bright red, life-sustaining liquid flowing from the unmoving form and onto the meticulously manicured landscaping.

He turned to run from the awful sight, crying uncontrollably as he did so, right into the arms of Boscorelli...

The killer abruptly sat up in bed as fear and guilt overwhelmed him. His heart beating rapidly as a cold sweat covered his shivering body. After several seconds, he realized he relived the awful nightmare yet again. He was alone in the dark room, the window fan blowing fiercely in his face as tears of grief for his lost brother stung his eyes. Even though Boscorelli wasn't one of the cops on the scene that horrible night, he knew with the pig dead and gone, the terrible nightmares would finally cease. Whether the thought was rational or not, he didn't care, he knew the deed he had in mind would have to be performed tonight.

* * *

The well dressed, middle aged man entered the ornate office and took his usual seat at the head of the long table. He addressed four others who were almost as well outfitted and already seated. "Any word on his whereabouts?" 

"Not yet sir. We have some leads though. It shouldn't be long now." One of the men answered.

"Good...make sure of that! As you all know, I'll be leaving for a short trip the day after tomorrow and I want the situation taken care of promptly." The middle aged man continued. "Do I make myself clear?" He asked as he slammed his alligator skinned briefcase shut.

"Yes sir...very clear." The second man responded.

"Excellent! Now on to other, equally important issues." The well dressed individual continued, as he lit his favorite brand of Cuban cigar.

* * *

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	7. Chapter Seven

Bosco entered the deserted locker room hoping the sanctuary the space provided would hold out as long as he needed to occupy the area. The second shift wouldn't be returning for approximately one hour, about the same time the third would be ready to roll.

He changed into his neatly pressed uniform and attached the various department issued items to his gun belt. He slightly jumped as a door slammed somewhere nearby; no doubt the spontaneous jerked reaction was due to the recent threats aimed at him. His skittishness would certainly be understandable to most; nevertheless, the notion of ever feeling vulnerable made him cringe.

His thoughts were consumed by the events of the past morning. He had to admit, the notes left by the killer were creepy and alarming, and therefore, needed to be reported, not because of the threats bestowed upon him, but because of the potential for more senseless bloodshed to others. He had to leave himself out of it though. He knew if Swersky found out, he would wind up on desk duty, or even worse, baby-sitting the skels in lock-up. It served no purpose to come forward and inform his supervisors that he was the recipient of a personal vendetta.

Upon reading the notes, he realized he had to act quickly or risk possible harm to another innocent citizen. The only way he knew to alert the department of an impending robbery was to make an anonymous phone call to the precinct. Left with no other alternative, he immediately did just that from a near-by pay phone. It was up to those in charge how to proceed with the information. Afterward, he jogged and walked for what seemed like hours, hoping his act of intervention would not prove fruitless.

When he finally arrived at the House, he was more than a little relieved to discover that no armed robberies or related shootings occurred in the 5-5 sector within the past twelve hours.

Bosco thought of the devastating sight that greeted him early this morning and wished he had just two minutes with the bastard. He called a nearby auto body shop at seven, as soon as it opened, and made arrangements to have his car towed sometime during the course of the day. He realized, in the scheme of things, that the vandalism to the vehicle could in no way compare to the tragic loss of life the despicable individual caused. In fact, it was trivial compared to almost everything that came to mind, even so, the sight of the paint splattered Mustang made him sick to his stomach.

He heard the voice before he noticed the figure and again, jumped at the unexpected interruption to his thoughts.

"Hey...sorry...I didn't mean to startle you." Davis replied, noticing the surprised expression on Bosco's face. His co-worker looked even more peaked than yesterday and his pale and sickly appearance disturbed the young officer. "You okay?" He continued with genuine concern.

"You didn't..." Bosco answered, looking away, embarrassed by his jerked response. "...and I'm fine." He curtly replied. "What are you doin' here so early?" He asked as he neatly arranged his locker, something he did maybe twice before in the past eleven years.

"Sully and I have a double tonight. I needed to get in and finish a couple of reports." Ty answered. "What about you?"

"I went for a run and realized I was closer to the station than to my apartment so I headed over." Bosco hoped he could avoid any one-on-one conversation but it didn't seem likely.

The two remained quiet as they went about their daily preparations. Davis debated whether to confront Bosco about his wan appearance and recent short fuse, maybe get the officer to confide in him. Faith seemed to think there was a problem, and after seeing his friend, he tended to agree. At the risk of getting the verbal pummeling of a lifetime, he decided to take advantage of the opportunity and broke the silence. "Listen...you know if there's anything you wanna' talk about, I'm here." He stated with hesitation.

"Thanks, but if you're referring to my personal life, I've got nothin' to say." Bosco replied, never facing the young officer. "In fact, things couldn't be better." He continued, adding nothing more for Davis to go on.

Ty persisted. "Look...I'm gonna' level with you Bosco. After last night, I don't get the impression that everything is so great in your life. You haven't been yourself lately and I know you don't need me to..."

Bosco cut him off as he slammed his locker shut and headed for the exit. "Then don't! I said everything was fine!" His voice exhibited more irritation than he actually felt; yet he couldn't help himself. He started to open the door but turned back to Davis when a sudden thought came to mind. "Did Faith put you up to this?" He asked accusingly.

"No...she didn't...but she did say she was concerned. You know it's only a matter of time before Swersky notices too. I just want you to know that when you're ready to confide in us, we'll be here. That's all." Davis replied with complete sincerity.

"I appreciate your concern Ty and I'm sorry for the outburst but really, everything's good." He hoped he sounded convincing. "I don't know what Faith told you but she's gotta' learn to butt out." Bosco added as he left the room.

* * *

The killer came to on the bathroom floor, unable to move and unable to remember why. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead. His vision was blurred and his legs ignored the commands his brain relayed to the limp limbs to perform their task and help him rise. 

Bells from a nearby church steeple chimed three times, establishing the current time. Could he really have been unconscious for several hours, or perhaps even a day, and not recall a single memory during that whole period?

He did remember the terrible nightmare, and, when he couldn't fall back to sleep, he smoked a joint to relax his unsteady nerves. When he was still wide awake an hour later, he went to the medicine cabinet and took a few sleeping pills. At least that's what he assumed the small yellow capsules were since the container he grabbed was labeled such, however, knowing the bitch, they could have been anything.

He needed assistance getting up but the tramp still wasn't home, or she just wasn't answering his calls for help. Actually, he realized he hadn't seen the bimbo at all in recent days as well.

He never placed much emphasis on dreams or on what they meant, but the most recent nightmare scared the hell out of him. In the dream, as in the park that fateful night, Danny looked him right in the eyes before he raised his gun, pleading for his help, but he couldn't move from under the brush. Now, for the first time he realized why. He was terrified, scared to death!

It also dawned on him that the only time he wasn't frightened was when he had his weapons. He felt safe then because he knew he could defend himself against them, the pigs, like the ones who killed his brother. He couldn't help but wonder how the events of the horrible moment would have played out if he had been armed as well. Danny could still be alive and the bastards that caused all his pain would, perhaps, be dead instead. He had to live with his cowardice all this time and he knew that as long as there was a single breath left in him, he would never, ever forgive himself.

His mind drifted to Boscorelli, to his prized .38, and to the large knife he had hidden in the bedroom and suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation in his legs as his lower extremities began to move at will.

* * *

Swersky entered roll call exhibiting a more serious demeanor than usual. "All right...listen up!" He announced as he addressed the officers gathered in the crowded room, positioning himself behind the podium in front of his attentive audience. "As it looks now, Homicide has reason to believe they finally have a break regarding the violent convenience store shootings plaguing our sector and resulting in two, unsolved brutal murders and several robberies." 

Bosco noticed the Lieutenant glance his way as he conveyed the much-anticipated development.

"After spending hundreds of hours over several weeks, the detectives assigned to the case feel confident they have come up with a potential ID on the suspect." Swersky couldn't help but note how quiet the room was. "I'll let Lieutenant Andrews fill you in on what we have at this time." He stepped aside and let the Homicide Lieutenant address the congregation.

Bosco had met Andrews on occasion and knew he was well respected in the department. The stories highlighting his many arrests, and convictions thereafter, were quite impressive and the seasoned cop had more than paid his dues to society with his well renowned accomplishments. Few doubted he would one day make chief. Some even speculated that perhaps he'd run for Mayor in the not too distant future.

After greeting the group, he went on to give a detailed statement, aware that all eyes were on him. "Here's what we have so far..."

Bosco was fully immersed in the man's point by point explanation of the detective's findings and never noticed Faith, who sat a row behind and three seats to his left. The news was what he'd been hoping for for the past two months. His only regret was that he was incapable of apprehending the criminal himself.

Andrews spoke as the group hung on his every word. His statuesque frame and well-spoken manner were intimidating, and his presence demanded nothing less than the full attention of the enraptured audience. He mentioned the early morning tip called in by a concerned citizen who declined to give his name and added that he had placed additional officers on surveillance duty for the time being.

Bosco didn't know the man personally, but according to those who did, his professional, order filled life greatly differed from his personal, tragic one. He immersed himself in The Job after the brutal murder of his only child, a nineteen year old daughter, who was found beaten and strangled in her SoHo apartment about ten years ago, apparently the victim of a botched robbery attempt at her residence. Unable to cope with the girl's death, his grief stricken wife committed suicide by overdosing on a bunch of pills about a year later. His daughter's killer was never identified and as far as Bosco knew, the case was still open. He wondered if the man's personal tragedy was the basis of his career choice with Robbery/Homicide.

"...there is currently an APB out on a Vincent Douglas Leonard, Caucasian male, age twenty, five feet, nine inches, slim build, brown eyes and possibly dark brown hair. Since he has no previous criminal record, we're currently awaiting a photo from the DMV, which will be distributed to all squads. Even though Leonard is our main suspect, he's wanted for questioning only, at least until we can confirm his participation in the crimes through a blood sample collected at one of the robbery scenes. Keep in mind, the suspect in question is armed and considered extremely dangerous..." Andrews cautioned.

Due to his confrontation with the wanted man, Bosco knew the statement to be fact. He was lucky to receive a minor wound while innocent others who crossed the maniac's path paid with their lives.

"Leonard's younger brother, Daniel Martin Leonard, was shot and killed in Grant Park in August of 2002 when he was seventeen. Records show the younger of the two, while armed, robbed a convenience store on 30th Street. Officers of the 43rd Precinct sighted him making his get away through the park. When confronted by the officers giving chase and their back-up, he brandished a loaded .38 and, raising the weapon, was shot by police in self-defense."

Andrews continued as Bosco digested all the information. He hoped this was it, the break they'd all been waiting for. He couldn't help but think of the deaths the psychotic murderer committed and if the killer was, in fact, Vincent Leonard, he had to be apprehended without further delay.

When the Homicide Lieutenant finished speaking, he thanked the officers and left the room, satisfied that all the pertinent information he relayed to the group would bring about quick justice and ease the fears of the concerned store owners and their employees.

A short time later, Christopher entered in his usual smug manner and handed Swersky several sheets of paper which he glanced over. "The Sergeant here will continue the briefing." He motioned to Christopher and addressed Bosco. "Boscorelli...I need to see you for a minute."

Bosco rose from his chair and followed his supervisor into the hallway. "What do we have Sir?" He asked, knowing a copy of the much-anticipated photo had arrived.

"Bosco...I need you to be sure." The older man stated as he handed the officer the picture. "Is this the individual who shot you while robbing the market?"

Bosco took the sheet and knew the second he saw the clear photo that he was looking at the face of the murderer, even so, he took a few seconds to respond. "It's him...I'm absolutely sure." He said with confidence.

"Good. You can go back in. I need to speak to the Captain." He said, also adding. "You sure you're up for duty today?"

"Yes Sir. I'm scheduled for two days off after tonight." Bosco replied.

"Just a little advice...do yourself a favor and take that time to relax." His superior suggested. "We're gonna' get him Bosco." Swersky added as he left the company of the exhausted but relieved officer.

Bosco stood at the door for a few seconds, contemplating the quick turn of events. The elusive criminal whose identity was a mystery for several weeks was now a wanted man with an APB out on him. He headed back to roll call wondering how long it would take to find the bastard responsible for so much grief and tragedy.

Even though the task was at times mundane, Christopher savored his time at the podium. It was his personal fifteen minutes of fame.

He was aware of Boscorelli's entrance as he continued to brief the officers and could actually feel his blood pressure rise at the sight of the obnoxious little twit. Ever since the jerk's rendezvous with his ex-fiancé, his hatred of Boscorelli never subsided. Granted, the unpleasant incident occurred years ago, but the humiliation he felt when he found out about it lingered to this day.

Everyone knew the two were not fond of each other, but while Christopher relished in his obvious dislike for the patrol officer, Bosco chose to ignore the fool.

"Hughes called in sick today, therefore, Monroe you're with Yokas in 5-5 George and Boscorelli, you're riding solo in David. Dismissed." He finished, directing a subtle, sarcastic smirk in Bosco's direction.

Bosco didn't mind riding alone and he was sure Faith wouldn't object to it due to the present circumstances. He caught sight of his partner glaring his way as he rose from his seat. He heard Monroe say something to her about getting the radios and meeting at the squad.

"Okay Sasha." Faith answered as she walked behind Bosco, who already had all of his equipment. She assumed he must have come in early to be so prepared. "If you're trying to avoid me, it isn't going to work!" She called after him sternly as she followed him outside. "Requesting to ride solo isn't going to help either!"

"Look..." Bosco turned to his partner, ignoring her last comment. "...if you want me to apologize for last night...okay...I'm sorry. Other than that, I have nothing to say!" He replied and continued on his way.

"I want to know what's up with you!" She demanded, as she caught up to him once again. "Why are you acting like a spoiled brat? You've been a jerk to all of us when all we want to do is help!" Her anger intensified as she went on. "I can't say anything to you without worrying if, or when, you'll have your next temper tantrum." She hastened her pace to keep up with him. She had things to say and was intent on making sure he heard them.

"Five months ago, when I came back to work, I wanted to resume our partnership because after eleven years, I thought we could make it work..." She went on, unable to keep her voice from breaking. "...but you won't even make an effort Bosco! You continue to do as you please without any consideration for others!" She couldn't contain her frustration any longer as she felt her eyes begin to tear.

Bosco abruptly stopped at his cruiser, hands on hips, he faced his partner and shook his head in annoyed exasperation. "I don't owe you anything Faith! We agreed to keep our private lives private...your suggestion." Seeing that she was upset, he softened for a moment as he continued. "I've apologized for the Noble thing countless times. I truly wish it never had happened. I'd give anything to take it back Faith but I can't." His voice was filled with remorse as the awful memory of seeing his partner go down in that hotel room played out in his mind. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get to work."

She tried to compose herself but her anger got the best of her. "I just realized how right Fred was about you. You are a self-centered, arrogant, egotistical, know-it-all and if you would have taken just one minute to think things through before your self-righteous 'Nobel' bullshit, the whole 'thing' would never have happened!" Faith regretted the harsh words as soon as she spoke them.

The anguished look on Bosco's face said more than a verbal rebuttal ever could. He stared at her for a brief moment, never saying a word to correct her or deny her hostile allegations. He dropped his head in defeat as he got into his cruiser and sped away, never looking back.

Faith watched as he drove off, oblivious to Sasha's arrival. Bosco's departing silence made her feel terrible, which, of course, she knew she deserved. Her words were spoken in anger, not hatred, surely he had to know that.

"Faith?" Monroe interrupted her thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah...can we just go... please..." Her voice trailed off as she entered 5-5 George and buckled up, preparing to wipe the tears that threatened to flow from her eyes.

* * *

The lousy day couldn't get any worse. After his rapid, although still only partial recovery from his self-diagnosed potential overdose, the killer showered and ate, not realizing how ravenous he was until he took a bite of his burger. He needed to get out of the warm apartment and wound up at the fast food restaurant. The food the place served wasn't that good but it was inexpensive and on his way to the strip joint. 

When he arrived at the club, he was told the stripper was out of town and wouldn't be back for a couple of days. The fact that she wasn't around didn't matter as much as the realization that he was broke until she returned.

His shaky legs still weren't completely cooperating with the signals his brain attempted to convey and he couldn't help but wonder if the condition was permanent.

He considered the so-called existence of the rumored 'suits' looking for him in their 'SUV's'. If they truly did exist, surely they must be amateurs or they would have approached him by now. He realized that any speculation on his part to the identity of the individuals or their whereabouts proved useless since he was leaving the City anyway. In time, he reasoned, no one would care what became of him.

After walking around aimlessly for hours, he decided to take a chance and head over to the pool hall he once frequented. He was sure his scruffy appearance was enough to conceal his identity to any of the regulars. He didn't get far though.

When he was just a few blocks from the place, he passed a market and did a double take. There on the large plate glass window, a picture of his former self was posted for all the world to see. The photo on the eight by ten poster was a replica of his driver's license. His name and vital statistics were printed next to the image. They knew who he was! The pigs had finally figured it out! He wasn't naïve enough to believe his identity could remain a mystery forever, but he still wasn't prepared for the sudden public disclosure.

As he turned to walk away, he noticed a police car slow down as it passed by. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, looking back to see if he was recognized. Sure enough, the cruiser pulled over and the passenger side door opened. He heard a male's voice yell for him to stop but he took off around the corner as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him.

There was still a fair amount of daylight visible between the tall buildings and his only chance to go unnoticed was to get lost in a crowd. Perhaps the movie theater down the street would be a good place to stay out of sight until darkness enveloped the City

He looked over his shoulder and saw the black cop from the warehouse run-in scanning the streets as his partner joined him. They saw him and immediately headed in his direction. His only chance now was to get in a cab or bus. They were on foot and couldn't possibly out run a vehicle but they would certainly radio his location and a slew of cops would converge upon the area.

Escape on the subway crossed his mind as an alternative for a quick get away, but he soon realized the same scenario would play out there as well. In fact, he could hear sirens in the distance and realized the streets were bound to be swarming with cops in no time. He had to get back to the apartment and wait for nightfall to leave the City, or better yet, the State, but with no cash, his options were limited.

He ran into a barroom and out through the back exit amid shouts from the bartender. Sully and Davis were close behind and rushed into the tavern.

"Where did he go!" Sully shouted to the man behind the bar while Davis radioed their position.

"Through the back door, I heard it slam shut!" The bewildered man answered.

Weapons drawn, the two officers ran to the exit but were unable to open the door. "Damn!" Sully shouted in exasperation, remembering the same outcome at the warehouse. "There's something blocking the door!"

Davis retraced their steps with Sully in tow but by the time they went around the building and into the alley, the suspect was gone.

Sullivan looked at his partner in sheer amazement. "How did you recognize him?" The veteran officer inquired.

"I didn't. No one looks at those things unless it's the perp or someone who knows him." Davis replied. "I just figured he had to be one or the other when he took off." The grinning young officer holstered his weapon as he headed back to the RMP.

* * *

Leonard hurriedly packed the few belongings he owned into an old gym bag he found in the hall closet and retrieved the .38 and knife he hid behind the bed side table. He grabbed the baseball cap the stripper wore on occasion and rushed out of the apartment, knowing he'd never set foot into the building again. 

He briskly walked down the street; aware of his surroundings with each step he took. He focused on every passer-by with each breath he drew, knowing he'd never get a second chance at escape if he were spotted again.

As risky as his tentative plan was, he had no other alternative for the time being. He needed to get out of the city, tonight, and Boscorelli was his ticket to freedom.

* * *

Please take a moment to review! It means alot! Thankx! 


	8. Chapter Eight

PLEASE NOTE: Chapter Eight is rated R for offensive language!

After waiting for sometime and much deliberation, Faith decided to leave the House. It was already after eleven thirty and Bosco still had not returned. Normally his delay would have worried her but she knew he was stalling, making sure she'd be gone before his return.

She realized that 5-5 David and 5-5 George had only one joint call during the entire day, resulting in her partner managing to avoid her for practically the whole shift. She wasn't scheduled to work the next two days and knew her apology couldn't wait for a third. She decided to go to Bosco's apartment in the morning and do so then, hoping he'd at least listen to her.

She exited the locker room through the back door and walked the few short blocks to the subway, hating herself for letting her anger get the best of her.

* * *

Although Bosco usually took a cab home from work the few times his car was out of commission, he decided to walk the several blocks to his apartment. It was a comfortable sixty-three degrees with a slight breeze. A brisk walk in the late night air could be just what he needed to clear his head. Running would have been even more ideal but awkward with his gym bag. 

His squad was the last to arrive at the Station, a feat not appreciated by the RMP's next occupants; however, he wanted to avoid Faith for the time being. He was convinced she didn't really mean the hurtful things she said but he just couldn't get into it with her tonight.

He realized some of the accusations she blurted out in her anger were true at times but surely she and Fred had to know he would never recklessly jeopardize her life, or any one else's for that matter, for the sole purpose of an arrest. His partner's welfare was prevalent to him. Without question more so than his own.

As he neared Finnegan's, he considered stopping at the Irish Pub for a quick drink. One innocent mug of beer could be just what he needed to lift his mood, but it would more than likely lead to the compulsion of several guilty ones, which in turn, would result in him hating himself in the morning. The last thing he needed was to inebriate himself into oblivion but nonetheless, the thought was, for the moment, somewhat pleasing.

He thought back to Sullivan's battle with the bottle. The memory of the mess the senior officer got himself into because of his addiction was enough to keep him sober for life. Even so, at times such as this, alcohol was often the answer to what ailed him, a much-needed sedative.

He reached for the door handle but thought better of it when he remembered his stay at the cabin in the woods that cold, snowy winter weekend with a withdrawing and delusional Sully. The whole experience was a nightmare, one he would never want to repeat at his own expense. He continued on his way as a few zealous bar patrons passed by him and entered the establishment.

His request for a double shift tonight had been denied. He wasn't sure why but assumed Swersky had something to do with it, no doubt the Lieutenant was convinced he needed the time off. He only asked for the over-time to keep up his surveillance of the local convenience stores and markets, hoping for a glimpse of Leonard. Patrolling the sector by cruiser would obviously have been more convenient than on foot.

Now that the killer's identity was known, he couldn't just sit in the apartment and wait for his capture. He had to do his part searching for the mope, if not officially, then on his own. It took months for the break in the case and he hoped it wouldn't take as long for an arrest.

Bosco crossed the street, removing his keys from the bag. It was a long day and he actually found himself looking forward to a couple of days off from his routine schedule. The appealing notion, no matter how minimal, of some rest and relaxation made him feel guilty though since the elusive killer was still on the lose.

Since the Jolly's robbery, his main goal was to be a part in the murderer's collar. The impending arrest and conviction of the much sought after killer was his primary focus. Even though he would never admit it to anyone, the entire situation was finally taking a toll on him. He was physically exhausted and mentally drained. He realized a potentially burned-out cop would be totally useless on duty and an asset to no one, however, until Leonard was in custody, his perseverance was what kept him going.

The City's entire police force was on the lookout for the skel, something he would have been all too enthusiastic to participate in tonight as well, regardless of whether he was in uniform or not, however, without transportation his options were currently limited.

He looked over his shoulder countless times as he walked at a quickened pace. He felt as though he was being watched on more than one occasion during his trek home. Even though Leonard knew where he lived, he wasn't about to change anything regarding his way of life just because of the threats aimed at him by the violent psychopath.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a metal trashcan being kicked around by some teens. He could never understand how some adults didn't know or care where there kids were or what they were up to. He wondered how many of them would wind up with a criminal record, if they didn't have one already.

If someone were following him, the guy was good at being discreet. If Leonard was foolish enough to attempt something, he felt confident that he was ready for him. Perhaps he wasn't up to par, but his instincts had never failed him before.

Bosco climbed the few concrete steps that led to the landing and main entrance of the old brick apartment building. Preoccupied by the numerous recent unsettling occurrences, he never noticed the figure in the shadows creep directly behind him as he entered the first set of oak and glass doors. He was about to check his mail when he felt someone rush towards him.

The unseen assailant caught him off guard as he was pushed from behind into the second set of doors. The force of his body crashing into them caused a few of the glass panels to shatter. Before he could react and defend himself, the assailant pushed his head into the wooden doorjamb hard enough that he felt the on-set of a significant bruise. So much for being prepared, he couldn't help but think. The strength of the individual was unbelievable. He realized his weapon was in the gym bag and he had to try to get to it unnoticed.

He felt the cold metal of a gun muzzle against his right temple as the hand that grabbed the nape of his neck tightened its grip. The more he struggled, the tighter the hold on his neck became.

"Put your hands up, against the door…now!" The angry male voice demanded as he shouted at his captive. "Don't try anything stupid or I'll blow your fuckin' head off!"

The man's face was only inches from his head and Bosco didn't doubt the seriousness of his warning. Dropping the bag, he slowly did as he was ordered. "I don't have any cash on me." The officer stated, remaining as calm as possible.

Not believing him, the assailant checked all of Bosco's pockets himself never moving the gun from his captive's head. "Where's your ATM card?" The crazed individual bellowed.

"I don't have …" Bosco began as the man pushed the gun harder against his already sore head.

The jag-off hesitated for an instant as if he wasn't sure what to do next. Bosco contemplated his options but everything that came to mind didn't seem to be worth the risk. He felt completely foolish for not noticing his attacker before the ambush, however, with everything else on his mind, being the victim of a random robbery would have been last on his list. He was overly confident and feared the mistake would be costly.

"Slowly unlock the door without moving your body…move it!" The man shouted

Bosco had no choice but to obey since the gun was still pressed against his head. He unlocked the door and was forced into the dimly lit hallway where he was pushed against the wall face first.

"Keep your hands up and don't move." He was again ordered, still unable to get a good look at the mysterious assailant who hovered behind him.

Leonard picked up the gym bag and spilled the contents onto the old tile floor. "Don't fucking move or I'll blow your damn head off pig!" He swore as he tore through the contents until he found a wallet and a small caliber handgun. He examined the wallet and put it into his jacket pocket, the gun into his waistband.

Bosco realized the skel knew he was a cop and stole a quick glance at the perp as he relished in his findings. The act was enough to confirm his worse fear. The mope was none other than Vincent Leonard himself. The person he wanted more than anything to apprehend now had a gun on him instead.

Bosco assumed the criminal's life style had taken a toll on him. Leonard appeared much older and more haggard than at their first encounter. The scar on the killer's face was undoubtedly a result of one of his vicious deeds.

Even though Leonard currently had the upper hand, Bosco was sure he could outsmart the punk. All he needed was the opportunity.

"All right…let's go. You're gonna get me a ride out of the City!" Leonard stated matter-of-factly, as his bloodshot eyes glared at the unarmed off-duty police officer.

The casual demand threw Bosco off guard. "What…?" He stated in disbelief. The man who angrily threatened to blow his head off seconds ago now conveyed the demeanor of someone in a casual conversation. He had to be high on something or a complete loon Bosco deduced. He tried to talk the crazed man out of doing something foolish. "Look…how about you give yourself up before things get worse than they already are…it's not too late to…"

"Shut-up Boscorelli!" Leonard screamed, pulling the revolver from his waistband and waving the loaded weapon as he ranted.

He was becoming even more agitated. Not a good thing, Bosco thought, especially for an armed loon.

"You heard me. I'm leaving the City and I need a car to do it in. You're gonna help me get one!" Leonard snapped, once again exhibiting his short fuse. In one of his rare coherent moments, the fact that the authorities were focusing their search on a lone individual was not lost on him. Having the cop with him would buy him some extra time to make a clean get away.

"I don't…" Before he could finish, Bosco was warned his attacker meant business when the murderer once again thrust the handgun into the back of his head. He didn't know how much longer his luck would hold out before the weapon would finally discharge.

"Move it!" Leonard seethed. "If you try anything stupid I'll shoot the first person we come across!" The fugitive warned as beads of sweat covered his forehead. He didn't feel well and the pig wasn't making this easy. "My gun will be aimed at you at all times so think about that before you pull something." Leonard warned as he pushed Bosco out into the dark night.

* * *

"No matter what I say, remind me not to volunteer for any more doubles!" Sully announced as he and Davis walked back to 5-5 Charlie with their hot cups of coffee. It was barely one am and they still had another six hours to go on the graveyard shift. "A sixteen hour workday stinks like a load of crap!" He moaned. "The longer we're out here, the worse the stench." 

"That's what you say every time Sul." His amused partner stated. "Except for the false alarm at that jewelry store we've only had a traffic stop, one DUI, and one disturbance call. It's been an uneventful shift. Even boring if you ask me." Ty added.

"Yeah well…you know I happen to prefer boring to action packed any day. In fact, the more boring the better! Especially at this time of night." The veteran officer responded with a smirk as he seated himself comfortably in the driver's seat.

Davis wasn't ready to let up. "Where's your sense of adventure?" He chided. "Personally, I wouldn't mind some action to pass the time."

The crackling of the radio interrupted their conversation before Sullivan could offer a witty retort to his partner's statement.

"All available units respond to an armed robbery call at The Lodge Bar and Grill, 1422 Harrington. Shots fired at the scene... two young suspects, one light-skinned...medium build, the other,dark-skinned...approximately six feet tall, seen fleeing on foot and heading west onto .…"

"See, this is what hoping for action gets you!" Sully complained as he poured his coffee out the door and tossed the cup to the car floor while Davis answered the call and put the squad in pursuit mode. "Are you happy now? Shots fired and all!" He continued in his familiar gruff voice as he carefully pulled onto the nearly empty street.

"Oh come on Sul. You'll feel great when we catch the perps. I'll even let you have the collars." The young officer joked, his handsome face portraying the eagerness of someone dedicated to his job. "Listen...I'll even do the report." He added, finally getting a smile from his way too serious partner.

* * *

His cell phone rang as the well-groomed man stepped off the elevator. The late hour call convinced him that the problem would soon be resolved. He'd been expecting it and anticipated good news. "Yes." He answered, saying nothing more. It had been agreed a long time ago that names would never be used unless meeting face-to-face. 

"Sir…I just received reliable information on his possible location. How would you like me to proceed?" The caller asked, knowing beforehand what the answer would be.

"Proceed as always." The sooner the matter was attended to, he thought, the better. "Good work." He praised his accomplice for his impeccable service and told him to call after the deed was completed. He canceled the call knowing the deadline would be met before his short, although very important journey.

* * *

5-5 Edward and George were the first at the robbery scene and gave chase while Charlie's occupants searched the immediate area. 

After a thorough yet unsuccessful canvass of the alley, Davis and Sullivan returned to the bar and gathered information from all the witnesses who were willing to offer any. Most of them weren't sober enough to even notice that a crime had occurred until the gunshots were fired. The bartender was the most helpful and agreed to look at mug shots as soon as he could close the establishment.

The pursuing officers returned to the crime seen a short time later, unfortunately, also without the benefit of an arrest. "We lost them...they took off down the subway at 137th. Any luck?" One of Edward's officers asked the interviewing duo.

"No. We did get a good description from Mr. Johnson here though." Sully stated, motioning to the Grill's employee, and silently thankful there were no injuries to report.

"All right Sul. We've been dismissed by dispatch. We'll get back out there and keep a look-out for the two." The assisting officer added as he followed his partner outside.

"See you back at the House." Sully said before turning his attention once again to the barkeep and thanking him for his cooperation. He spoke to the lead detective before leaving the bar and grill and joined Ty outside.

No sooner had he and Davis seated themselves in Charlie and informed Central they were back on street patrol, the RMP's radio came to life with another call. A reported disturbance at 1844, 148th Street. Sully looked at his partner, wondering why the address sounded so familiar.

* * *

Bosco and his antagonist roamed the streets for what seemed like hours, when in fact the expedition had lasted a little more than thirty minutes. The killer nudged the hidden gun against his side on more than one occasion. Carlos Nieto and two off-duty paramedics, Bosco didn't know their names, were leaving a bar across the street. As luck would have it, Leonard must have noticed Bosco's apparent hesitancy at continuing down the walk and reminded him to go on with a hard jab into his ribcage. Bosco thought for a brief instant that he could draw Nieto's attention but reconsidered when he realized the consequences. 

Another time, as they waited to cross at an intersection, a police cruiser came to a stop at the light. Leonard made it a point to lower his head, the cap's brim shielding him perfectly, as they waited to continue on.

Bosco and the squad's occupants acknowledged each other with a subtle nod, but the urge to vocalize his predicament quickly diminished when Leonard, now standing behind him, casually reminded him that he would shoot both officers' dead in their cruiser before they knew what hit them.

Even though the temptation to solicit help was overwhelming, Bosco knew he had to figure a way out of the mess on his own. The risk to others was too great to chance.

Leonard kept his gun close to his captive at all times. The arrogant fool actually thought he might be able to pull something over on him a couple of times, but he quickly let him know who held all the cards. He wondered if he should have killed the cop when he first laid eyes on him tonight.

He was beginning to realize the pig was more trouble than he was worth. Now he not only had to find a way out of the City, but also a way to dispose of his prey. His brief uncertainty at the apartment building had caused him more problems than necessary. He needed to find a secluded spot to finish the do-gooder off. He knew his luck wouldn't hold out much longer if he didn't act fast. The realization that he would be better off without his hostage was quite satisfying.

* * *

Faith slowly awakened from a deep sleep. The knock on the door wasn't a dream after all. It was almost two thirty and she knew the disturbance wouldn't be good news. She quietly got out of bed and grabbed her robe, closing the bedroom door behind her. Fred was sound asleep and she didn't want to disturb him. At least not yet. 

She opened the door as far as the security chain would allow and was surprised to see Sullivan and Davis standing there. Her feelings of unease had quickly turned to panic. "What happened?" She questioned, afraid to hear their response. Her first thought was directed at Charlie who was at a friend's sleepover.

"We're sorry to disturb you at this hour Faith but we had to talk to you." Sully voiced, hesitating for a moment as he and Davis entered the apartment.

"What is it Sully?" She asked, her anxiety turning into pure dread.

"We just left Bosco's apartment. There was a disturbance call reported from his building." The officer stated, his concern evident. "There's a lab crew there now. Bosco's gym bag and a few of his items were found discarded at the building's entrance. The front door was damaged and he isn't home. There's an APB out on him and his car. We were hoping that maybe you would have heard from him."

"No…I haven't." She picked up her phone and dialed her partner's number, willing him to answer. "Maybe he had a family emergency or something." She reasoned, trying to reassure herself as well as her co-workers.

Before Davis could respond, the phone he concealed in his jacket pocket began to ring. "Faith, this cell was among the items recovered." The young officer said as he held the vibrating device in a clear plastic bag.

Faith knew it was Bosco's and that it was potential evidence. She also realized that he had been an unwilling participant to whatever transpired in his building. She wished she hadn't left the Station when she did.

"Did you see him at the House before you left?" Sully added.

"I waited for awhile but he never showed." She stated, angry with herself for not waiting longer. "Oh my God Sully…why are the crime scene guys there?" Faith asked, afraid to hear his answer.

Davis looked at his partner, perhaps as a gesture of support. He knew Sully hated being the bearer of bad news.

"Right now, it looks like a robbery attempt gone bad, Faith." He took a moment before he went on. "There were small trace amounts of blood on the door and wall at the entrance." Sullivan could tell her concern was growing by the unsettling news, but he also knew he couldn't hold anything back. She had every right to know what he knew regarding the status of the investigation. "It might not be as bad as it looks Faith." He said, trying to sound encouraging, even though he didn't believe it.

"Wait for me while I change." She quickly left the room never giving the two officers a chance to reply.

* * *

After almost an hour of searching, Leonard's quest for a mode of transportation had proven futile. The few opportunities that arouse were too risky to chance. He had to find a more reclusive location to accomplish his task. He noticed they were close to Riverside and the perfect idea dawned on him. The pier area was a virtual goldmine of parked cars. The crews of various shipping carriers were often gone for days at a time. It was the ideal place to get some wheels. He'd be long gone before anyone realized their vehicle was missing. 

He once heard that car thieves never even bothered to steal anything from the piers because no one ever left anything of value to take. Because of that, surveillance was at a minimum. He'd find out soon enough if the rumors were true. Even though he'd never hot-wired a car before, he was sure he could figure it out.

The pier was also secluded and a perfect location to get rid of his hostage. He watched Boscorelli with renewed animosity. Little did the pig know he had a very short time left to live.

* * *

Your reviews are welcome and much appreciated! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Davis hurriedly joined Yokas and Sullivan in one of the unoccupied offices at the Station. Faith's request for clearance to ride along was in the process of review. It was a formality they couldn't ignore even though they were anxious to join the other squads in the search. The short amount of time they already waited seemed like an eternity.

"I just spoke to the desk Sergeant." The excited young man announced. "5-5 John sighted Bosco within the last half hour, they're not positive but he seemed to be alone." Ty proclaimed, relieved they now had something concrete to go on. "He was waiting to cross at Bleecker and l2th."

"That's no where near his apartment." Faith stated, getting up from her seat. The location of the sighting, especially at this time of night, was perplexing. "There's no word on his car yet so he must still be on foot." She reasoned, wondering why Bosco didn't let John's occupants know if he was having a problem. Unless of course, something prevented him from doing so.

"Could they tell which way was he heading?" Sully asked, thinking how beneficial the sighting would have been if the APB had been out at that time.

"West…or at least that's the way he was going when they spotted him." Ty responded.

"Why would he be heading towards the River?" Faith wondered out loud.

Davis wasn't certain how to answer his concerned co-worker and didn't know if he would sound reassuring if he did.

Sully contemplated the question while pacing the small room. One of a few places in the general location came to mind. "The dock…or maybe one of the piers? Maybe his cars there for some reason." He guessed. "Faith, Davis and I have to get back out on patrol." The senior officer declared as he reached for his jacket. "We'll cruise the area. Who knows…maybe we'll get lucky."

"Great idea Sul. I'm riding along! We've waited for that clearance long enough!" Faith firmly stated, heading for the doorway as Davis and Sullivan looked at each other. "I need something to do guys and I don't see what I can accomplish here."

Knowing it was useless to argue, Sully led the way back to 5-5 Charlie, sure their superiors would understand the minor infraction. He hoped the mysterious situation would be resolved shortly and prayed for a favorable outcome.

* * *

The figure in black, currently also on foot, followed his target for several blocks. He had to remain totally inconspicuous. Too much time and effort had already been spent on the search for the mark. He couldn't risk losing the man again. The situation needed to be resolved without further hesitation. 

He'd been reminded that his fee for the job had been paid in advance, therefore, another delay would cause his associates to reevaluate his position with the group. He wasn't sure exactly what that meant but he knew he didn't want to find out.

He caught sight of the subject totally by coincidence a short time ago while driving the SUV. Unfortunately, he had to abandon the vehicle five blocks from his current location when he noticed the target looking back at him numerous times. It was as if the man was expecting to be followed.

The darkly shrouded figure was caught off guard by the presence of the individual with the mark. He knew that a witness to his assignment was unacceptable, nevertheless, the situation needed to be reported.

He phoned his colleague to inform him of the most recent, unexpected development and was told to continue as per the original agreement, however, under no circumstance would an individual not on the contract be harmed. The life of an innocent human being would never be sacrificed in order to bring a guilty criminal to justice. A tragic mistake would mar the existence of the Group and defeat the whole point of their stance. He reassured his associate he would accomplish the task entrusted upon him with complete satisfaction and at no risk to another.

The dark figure wondered what the subject would do if he knew he only had a short time left to live.

* * *

They were getting closer to the River and Bosco knew he had to make a move. He wasn't going to make it easy for the killer and was ready to fight with all he had. 

It was fairly dark due to the inadequate street lighting and if not for the multitude of vehicles scattered throughout, the area would be deserted. The only audible sound was that of a barge horn in the distance. Except for routine patrol, he never had a reason to go to the docks and wondered why Leonard brought him here.

He debated whether he was quick enough to make a run for it. Would he be able to shield himself behind a parked car or maybe underneath one of the pick-up trucks he saw? Perhaps make a clean get away into one of the many near-by warehouses? Or did he have a better chance taking a high dive into the Hudson before he got shot in the back? The latter method of escape appealed to him the least.

Before he was even able to decide on a final plan, he felt a sudden, hard blow to the back of his head. He instinctively moved his right hand to the painful spot as he stumbled towards the macadam, landing on his knees. He attempted to support himself by leaning on his extended left arm. "What the hell…" He wasn't sure if he actually verbalized his surprise or merely thought it. His vision blurred as he watched Leonard pace wildly around him.

He heard the lunatic's vulgar ranting and raving but couldn't focus on the words. Something about his brother and bastard cops. He tried to get up but was mercilessly kicked on the right side of his torso. He swore he actually felt a rib snap. The intense pain was on the verge of unbearable.

He collapsed onto the street, pulling his legs into a fetal position. As he lay there trying to protect his injured chest from any further assault, Leonard's sneakered foot pushed his already sore head into the hard, paved ground and held it there for a moment before maliciously kicking him in the back. He couldn't help but cry out in pain.

Bosco was unprepared for the vicious attacks and found the simple act of breathing excruciating. His eyes began to water as he struggled for each breath. He expected a gunshot at any moment to end his life.

He heard police sirens in the distance but it didn't seem as if Leonard noticed them. Did his fellow officers already know he was in trouble and needed help? As the agony of his injuries threatened to overtake him, he was momentarily confused as to his exact whereabouts and wasn't even sure if he was still in the five-five sector.

Perhaps Faith had gone to his apartment to talk and saw the aftermath of the attack? Maybe his co-workers in 5-5 John relayed his previous location to Central. Was there even an APB out on him yet? His Mustang? Wait…no one knew about his car…or did they? His heart sank as he realized the sirens were beginning to fade. No…they would never leave the location without a thorough search…would they? As the piercing sounds of his potential salvation diminished even more, he slowly began to realize the response was not directed towards him after all, but to some other helpless victim hoping for a swift rescue.

He didn't want to die. He got himself into this predicament due to his own carelessness. In his line of work, he'd been trained to expect the unexpected! At all times! How could he have failed so miserably?

His brain was on overdrive, wishing he'd acted when he had the chance, still trying to figure a possible way out of the mess.

He sensed Leonard standing over him. The lunatic's face was a blur, even as he inched closer to his own. The night sky seemed darker than it appeared a short time ago and he could tell the streetlight directly above them was unlit, making it very difficult to see.

He felt his aching head being pulled up by his hair and felt Leonard jab the barrel of a gun into his side. "I'm talking to you Boscorelli!"

The madman screamed at his defenseless prey, enraged the cop wasn't answering him. After angrily cursing his foe's existence, the killer banged his captive's head against the black street. The heinous act gave him immense satisfaction.

Bosco struggled to stay conscious even though the urge to fight back and the will to survive diminished with each painful breath. He felt blood trickle into the outer corner of his eye. At first he thought he was seeing double when another figure appeared next to Leonard. The psycho was still carrying on and didn't notice the presence. The human frame was cloaked in black and difficult to see but Bosco was sure it was there.

His eyelids were too heavy to keep open any longer. He was suddenly so very cold. The dark clouds of an approaching storm now covered the bright stars that shone so beautifully a short time ago. He focused on the night sky as he drifted into unconsciousness. The last thing he heard was the blast of a handgun very close to his head.

* * *

5-5 George was assigned to patrol the immediate vicinity of the missing officer's home. In cases such as this, there was always a strong possibility that the unaccountable individual would return to their dwelling, unaware that they were even listed as missing. Though the likelihood of that scenario didn't seem plausible in this particular instance, they were still required to go through the motions. 

The third trip around the general area proved more insightful than the first two. After shinning the RMP's spotlight on the darkest areas of their route, the driver of George noticed the partial plate number on a car covered by tarp within the perimeter of the chain-link, fenced lot of Alvin Bros. Auto Repair. Upon closer inspection on foot, the squad's passenger was able to reach close enough through the rusted fence to move some of the tarp with his nightstick and verified that sure enough, the plate along with the vehicle it was attached to, matched the current APB.

The officer's relayed their discovery to Central and within minutes, the shop was inundated by the proper investigative teams. The perplexed business owner arrived by police escort in time to witness the removal of the bolted gates, swearing his innocence of any criminal activity to anyone who would listen.

* * *

The well-groomed man stood at the window of the high-rise and gazed onto the City streets below. He raised the chilled glass of bourbon to his lips and savored the smooth taste of the whiskey as it slid down his throat. The scent of recently smoked, imported cigars still lingered. 

From his vantage point by the large tinted glass, the lit up City was a magnificent land of wonder. A truly spectacular, serene sight to behold. It was difficult to imagine so much crime, misery and mayhem could exist among such beauty.

The others had left some time ago, leaving him to savor the moment. They trusted the deed would be completed as was promised. He knew they didn't doubt the outcome, however, the risk of discovery was always foremost on their minds. After all, if they were dismantled, how would Justice prevail?

The task of holding criminals accountable and seeing that they paid for their crimes was what the Group strived for. The Group stepped in when the Judicial System failed. Their intervention was, of course, a last resort. Even though a portion of society would be appalled by their actions, each member believed the vast majority would be indebted. The retribution the Group dispensed was for the helpless victims and their grief-stricken families.

At first, their form of Justice was difficult to administer, but as time went on and the crimes to society became more vicious, the Group believed they were justified in their actions. Too many guilty criminals were released on technicalities to once again wreak havoc on innocent and unsuspecting citizens; a travesty they had all witnessed countless times. The individuals who ran afoul of the law needed to be stopped.

His righteous thoughts were interrupted as he caught sight of the framed photograph in the dimly lit office.

* * *

Swersky heard the phone ring before his wife did. As long as he'd been on the Job, the shrill sound still scared the hell out of him, especially in the early morning hours, when he was awakened from a deep sleep and it was still dark outside. He wasn't scheduled to begin his shift for hours; thus, his first reaction at the untimely disturbance was one of pure dread. 

He could see the lit up digits the caller ID displayed were one of the Station's various telephone numbers. He exited the bedroom as he answered; knowing the caller was about to give him information he didn't want to hear.

* * *

Lieutenant Andrews picked up the picture on his desk and lovingly gazed at the happy, young family it portrayed. He remembered the day the photo was taken vividly since it was one of the last times they were together. He knew the sense of pride he felt that day was as strong now as it was then. He gently placed the framed photo back, his smile fading, as another memory took over. 

He remembered the devastating phone call from his hysterical wife. He'd recently been promoted to Sergeant and was in Vegas at the time for some useless police convention. She was beside herself with grief and anguish. He understood something terrible happened…to their daughter… he had to hurry home…

She never withdrew from her deep depression and killed herself on the first anniversary of their child's death. Their daughter's brutal murder all those years ago nearly destroyed him as it had his beautiful spouse.

He recalled the golf outing he went on several years ago with his best friend, currently a retired Circuit Court Judge, and a renowned member of the Group, (of course, a fact unbeknownst to him at the time). A trip he didn't want to take but was coerced into because someone cared and didn't think he should be alone again, on that specific date. It was a journey that changed his life forever. A trip that culminated with his ordination into a secret society whose members were on board for life.

The Group was his salvation. His chance to see that the animal who killed his only child would suffer as she did. Her killer received his final sentence fourteen months and five days after her death. The murderer's identity, as well as his fate, known only to the associates of the Group. His only regret was the fact that his wife never knew that the animal that took their daughter's life paid with his own.

In the beginning, his membership was looked upon with suspicion by some of his associates; however, his loyalty had been proven several times during the years. He had become a valuable asset to the organization. His professional occupation, which was the cause of earlier skepticism, was now a plus and guaranteed priceless information he had access to.

Tonight, another case, the one against Vincent Leonard was officially closed. His detailed file taken by one of the members to dispose of. Weeks of searching for the cold-blooded killer were finally over. Any chance for a possible acquittal, null and void. His death sentence administered quickly and painlessly, with more sympathy than he granted his victims. He would never harm another innocent human being again.

Andrews stepped away from the window and gathered his belongings, placing them into his leather briefcase. He turned off the light switch and stared at the photo across the room once again before leaving the tranquil surroundings.

* * *

Please…hurry Sully! Faith silently pleaded. In her opinion, the harrowing ride to the auto repair shop was taking much too long. They were en route to Bleecker when they heard 5-5 George's request for assistance a short time ago. Bosco's car had been located. 

"It's only a few blocks now Faith." Davis assured her, sensing her worry and wishing he had something more positive to say to soothe her mounting anxiety. Ty noticed Sully's grim expression and knew his partner had a bad feeling regarding the recent discovery.

Sullivan turned the final corner and Charlie's occupants were greeted by an array of flashing red and blue lights. The block ahead was cordoned off by the familiar bright yellow tape as police and emergency vehicles were scattered about.

Sully emerged from the squad while his partner opened the back door. "Faith…wait!" He called as she rushed towards the mangled gate just as the fire department was opening the trunk of the vandalized Mustang.

The uplifted sheet of metal obstructed her view, rendering her unable to see what was happening behind it. Her heart skipped a beat as she noted the destruction to the vehicle; however, her concern was focused on what might be found inside the car's rear compartment. She held her breath as she peered inside the empty trunk. Immensely relieved there was no body or blood, she approached one of the detectives she recognized. "Anything?" She worriedly asked.

"No, not yet. We're just about to do an evidence sweep. The business owner, a James Alvin, says it was towed here yesterday morning, at Boscorelli's request." The investigator stated.

"What? Where is Mr. Alvin?" Faith asked.

"He's in his office, being questioned." The veteran officer informed her as he continued with his investigation.

Faith didn't hear Sully, who once again called after her as she raced to the office, wondering what kind of explanation this Mr. Alvin had to offer. She was convinced the owner wasn't being truthful because the Bosco she knew would never have kept something as serious as this from her. He was her partner, after all they had been through, Bosco was still her best friend. Surely if he knew her at all, he had to know that much. He would certainly confide in her if he were in trouble, no matter how minor he thought the incident was.

She hated herself for her earlier outburst. She had to believe he was all right. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to him. God forbid, if the outcome of the current situation ended badly, the last thing he would remember about her would be the hurtful words she spewed at him in angry frustration. She wiped a tear from her cheek as she entered the small, cluttered office, anxious to get to the bottom of the nerve-racking mystery.

* * *

Leonard was too involved with tormenting his helpless hostage and failed to hear, or even notice, the figure's approach until the final second of his life. 

The assassin fired his 9-mm, point blank, at the back of the antagonists' head, killing him instantly. The shooter gawked at the lifeless body for a moment, a good portion of the top of the dead man's head was gone, the corpse's callous, dark eyes stared into oblivion, it's distorted mouth agape with shocked surprise

His agenda back on track, the assassin knew he had to move quickly. Thunder rumbled close by and lightening bolts lit up the dark sky. The approaching storm threatened a heavy downpour at any moment. The figure dragged Leonard's body to the edge of the dock and pushed it into the dark, murky river, making sure any evidence followed close behind.

He walked over to the downed man; aware of each labored breath the unconscious victim took. For an instant, he debated whether to put the poor bastard out of his misery. The guy might even be thankful; after all, it would be quicker than bleeding to death. The gash on the side of his head alone looked like it could very well be fatal. He hesitated long enough to second-guess his first impulse. Causing injury or harm to an innocent individual was completely forbidden by the Group. The repercussions of such a grievous mistake would surely anger the members and terminate his service with the Organization. Permanently.

The darkly clad man searched the unconscious victim's pockets but found nothing. No ID, wallet, or even keys, lead him to believe the injured individual was more than likely a random robbery casualty of Leonard's. He was convinced the clean-cut man wasn't a drug addict since his inner arms were free of any track marks, after all, he would never feel obligated to go through so much trouble for some junkie. Probably just some guy who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The assassin dialed 911 on a nearby pay phone, not wanting to use his cell on the chance the call could eventually be traced. He relayed all the pertinent information regarding the injured man to the dispatcher, whose insistent questions as to the caller's identity were left unanswered.

As in all the past cases, things always had a way of working out for the best. He took one last look around as the storm closed in, washing away all evidence of his presence and Leonard's existence.

* * *

"All available units…respond to an anonymous call in the vicinity of 16th and Waterfront…caller states unconscious, male victim found on dock between piers…" 

Faith, convinced that Mr. Alvin truly didn't know anything, heard the call while searching the grounds for Sully and Davis. She heard random bits and pieces of the broadcast as she raced to find an RMP with a driver ready to roll.

"…be advised, description of victim matches current APB on miss…" The heavy rain drowned out some of the pertinent information she craved, but she didn't need to hear the rest, her gut feeling told her all she needed to know…her partner had been found. "…EMS en route…" Was the final thing she heard when she noticed 5-5 Charlie's approach.

"Faith!" Davis called to her as he and Sullivan pulled up to the rain soaked woman, stopping just long enough to collect her where she stood.

"I couldn't hear the entire call…but it's got to be Bosco…hurry Sully!" She implored, vaguely noticing as Davis radioed their intentions.

"It won't take long Faith…we're not that far away." Sullivan reassured her as he focused on the road ahead.

Faith tried not to give into her despair. She heard the dispatcher say injured male, nothing about a body. She shivered, only now noticing how wet she actually was. The heavy rainfall slowed as she took note of the time. Fred would be waking soon. He would wonder where she was. She never took the time to leave a note, convinced she wouldn't be gone long.

5-5 Adam, carrying the first shift of the day, pulled directly behind Charlie. The sight of the life-saving bus and the high-low siren it emitted gave her some comfort. Help was on the way. She willed her partner to be all right…to hold-on and fight if he wasn't.

Sully gazed into the rear-view mirror. Yokas appeared calm but he knew the entire episode was killing her inside. He knew there would be no holding her back when they finally reached their destination. Davis was in constant radio contact with 5-5 Victor and 5-5 David, who were already at the site, their search for the victim unsuccessful for the time being. As long as he'd been on the Job, Sullivan could, and never would, understand the cruelty that human beings were capable of bestowing upon one another.

Even in the dark RMP, he noticed her tired eyes were puffy and red, random tears stained her cheeks. "It'll be all right Faith…we'll find him." He gently offered. They all realized the longer it took to locate Bosco, the less likely the situation would end favorably.

They neared Waterfront, several units already there, lights flashing, spotlights shinning onto the darkest areas of the dock. Faith ready to bolt as soon as he stopped.

"Yokas…Sullivan and Davis!" Swersky called as he saw Charlie pull up to the fiftieth pier. The Lieutenant walked closer to the trio as they emerged from the squad. "I need somebody to shed some light onto what the hell is going on here tonight?" Their confused but adamant supervisor inquired as he met the three.

"I wish I knew Boss." Faith answered, almost in daze.

Sullivan continued. "From what we could figure so far, it looks like someone had some kind of vendetta against Bosco and followed through with it. It's just a hunch Sir, but the best one we could come up with."

"I just came from Boscorelli's apartment. Two threatening, hand-written notes were found among his belongings." The Lieutenant stated. "They were scattered on a table along with Vincent Leonard's picture and information on the killings and robberies he's committed."

"Makes sense…after all that's happened tonight." Davis added. "We all know Bosco hasn't been himself lately. Even though he insisted there was nothing wrong, the whole Leonard thing must have gotten' to him more than he was willing to admit."

Faith could no longer contain her desperation. "How the hell are we suppose to find him here? What kind of person would call 911 and not give the victims exact location?" Her fear for her partner's safety turning into anger towards the unidentified caller. Before she could excuse herself and partake in the search, she heard the words she'd been waiting for since the ordeal began.

"Over here…!" A voice called from behind a parked vehicle "…by warehouse number nine!" Another joined in.

Faith ran to the location as the others followed. Oh God…please! She silently begged, running faster than she ever thought she was capable of, the EMT's and some uniforms two steps ahead of her.

She forced her way through the gathering of uniformed personnel. The sight of her partner made her gasp and her knees weaken.

* * *

OK! Epilogue to follow soon! Sorry if this chapter is a little too long, but I have a habit for rambling on. Hope you are somewhat enthralled so far. I'm having a great time writing. Your generous reviews are so very much appreciated! 


	10. Epilogue

Faith paced one of the hospital's small waiting areas; a thousand "what-if's" filled her anguished mind. Feeling completely useless while the world around her bustled with a flurry of hectic activity, she pondered the known events of the past few hours while she anxiously waited for word on Bosco's condition.

She thought of the immediate response upon finding her missing partner. An instant of unbelievable relief followed by panic filled minutes as the medics assessed his injuries. She sat in the front of the bus as he was transported to Mercy; never taking her eyes off of the EMT's as they treated him. She caught phrases or words such as "head trauma", "possible brain injury", "severe concussion", even the constant evaluation of his vitals, all the while contemplating why Bosco kept everything from her. He once told her he had no one else but her to turn to in times of need. The fact that she could somehow have failed him when he needed her the most filled her with remorse.

She recalled the rush of the medical staff upon their arrival to Mercy, the sight of her injured friend being poked and prodded were a lot to take in. She realized it would take some time to determine the severity of his condition. She never moved until he was transferred from Trauma Two to Radiology for more testing. Almost another hour of anxious waiting elapsed before a nurse informed her that Bosco was rushed to the OR a short time ago.

The CAT scan revealed a skull fracture and an intracranial hemorrhage…emergency surgery was necessary to alleviate the swelling to his brain …there was a possibility of internal bleeding…damage to organs…it was too much to comprehend. She was thankful Swersky was behind her when she heard the news. His hand on her shoulder gave her some reassurance. Even though Dr. Miles, one of the ER physicians, explained as much as he knew and affirmed that Bosco was in the hands of an excellent surgical team, she wished she could do more than wait and pray.

Faith took a moment to call her family from the waiting area. Due to her hasty departure, she didn't take the time to leave a note and was sure Fred would be annoyed regarding her unexplained absence. Her husband answered on the first ring. He was frantic, not angry as she had anticipated. He even offered to wait with her but she was able to convince him to stay at home and wait for Charlie. Knowing how he felt about Bosco, his proposal surprised her. Since the Noble incident, he never kept his dislike for her partner a secret. It was a pity that any compassion her husband felt towards the fallen officer was only now evident because he was injured.

She tried to call Rose Boscorelli a few times until she remembered Bosco mentioning a trip his mother was taking. He never said where she was going or how long she'd be gone, except that she would be away throughout the weekend. All she could do was keep trying.

Sully and Davis refused to leave even though they were exhausted after their long shift. Last she noticed, they had both dozed off in the adjacent lounge.

Swersky was in and out, checking on Bosco's progress and keeping her filled-in on where the investigation stood. He reminded her of the statewide APB on Leonard and she was sure he'd be in custody before the end of the day. Even though there was no definite proof that he was behind the awful events at this time, there was little doubt that he was involved. There was no way the son-of-a-bitch was going to get away with what he did!

So she paced, mostly non-stop, from window to door, a short distance up and down the corridor leading to the secure entrance of the OR and back to the lounge again. She tried to sit but couldn't for more than a minute at a time. Why was it taking so damn long?

As word of the early morning attack spread, several police officers stopped by to check on her partner throughout the day. Regardless of whether an injured officer was a close acquaintance or not, members of the force still came to show their respect. It was the bond of a brotherhood not many could understand unless they were a cop. Even Lieutenant Andrews from Homicide came by to see if there was anything he could do. She'd always heard good things about the detective and his visit confirmed her admiration for the man.

Sully finally left the hospital about an hour ago to shower but insisted on returning to cover for Ty. Neither man could be persuaded to stay home and get some much-needed sleep.

The lengthy wait was taking a toll on her and she knew she couldn't take it much longer without some encouraging news. She had to know what was going on behind the closed off area soon, or she'd completely lose her mind. Davis' earlier words of solace were not enough to alleviate her fears.

The smell of the fresh coffee she savored all morning was now nauseating. If anyone offered her another cup, she would surely throw it at him or her. She was well aware of her fragile state and knew the only thing that would make her feel better was some good news about Bosco.

Her pacing turned into a quest to find someone who could tell her what the hell was taking so long. It had been nearly four hours since her partner was taken to surgery. She was so focused on the passing minutes she could almost swear she heard the ticking of each fleeting second on the old wall clock.

Before she realized it, Faith found herself on the elevator heading for the ER. Perhaps Mary Proctor was on duty…she could certainly find out what was going on!

* * *

Sully drove back to Mercy; his concentration on the street ahead of him took second place to the concern he felt regarding his injured coworker. He was tired but sleep was the last thing on his mind. 

Even though he and Bosco had their differences, he always thought Boscorelli was a good cop. Sometimes, the young officer even reminded him of himself several years ago. He still considered himself dedicated to the Job of course, but he knew he lost something over the years…his Spirit.

When he became a cop over twenty years ago, there was no stopping him from whatever it took to collar the City's wanted criminals. Now, more often than he'd like to admit, if the opportunity for another squad to respond to a call presented itself, he wouldn't take the effort to be the first on-site. Especially if the call was a domestic.

While Sully considered his take on police work as that of problem solver with as little physical confrontation as possible, Bosco's view was the complete opposite. The younger man's "shoot first, ask questions later" attitude was exasperating at times but the senior officer held the utmost respect for his colleague. If a perpetrator on the run needed to be brought down, no one could argue that Bosco was the cop to do it.

Sully knew a major part of his disillusionment concerning his job was the legal system. More often than not, a scumbag he arrested earlier in the day was out on bail before his shift ended.

He didn't need anyone to tell him that maybe it was time to think about retiring. The notion crossed his mind often during the past few months. He had to wonder if it was normal to feel this way after all the horrible things he'd witnessed during his years on the force.

Boscorelli was always anxious to do his best. When he set his mind on something there was no holding the guy back. At times, he got himself into trouble because of it, but his numerous arrests spoke volumes for his endless perseverance and dedication. The streets of New York were a safer place because of the cop lying in Mercy, fighting for his life, a life a thousand times more valuable than Vincent Leonard's. It disgusted him to no end that Leonard was out there, somewhere, probably planning his next robbery. He didn't know what it would take to get the bastard behind bars but he knew the son-of a-bitch wasn't gonna get away with what he did.

* * *

As she exited the OR waiting area, Proctor noticed the neuro-surgeon walking towards her. She opened the door and called to Faith, introducing the officer to the specialist and excusing herself, reminding Faith she would be in the ER if she needed her. 

Faith didn't know what to expect as she shook the man's hand. His stoic facial expression was difficult to read and scared the hell out of her.

"Officer Yokas…" He began.

"How is he?" She anxiously interrupted, her pleading eyes begging for good news. Sully returned just minutes ago and was met by Davis and Swersky in the hallway.

"The surgery went as well as can be expected. His condition is very critical; however, we were able to stabilize him. The next forty-eight hours will be extremely crucial." The surgeon hesitated a moment before he continued. "Unfortunately, head wounds are very difficult to evaluate…we can always tell more when the patient regains consciousness."

Sully gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze as the doctor went on.

"He sustained two serious head injuries. The first, a basilar skull fracture, caused fluid to enter the inside of his skull. I had to insert a temporary shunt to drain the excess liquid and relieve the pressure around his brain. This is a fairly routine procedure when head trauma is diagnosed." The surgeon suggested they be seated in the lounge, noticing Faith's drained appearance, but she insisted he continue.

"The wound to his temple caused an epidural hematoma. We repaired the severed arteries this laceration caused. Due to the severe beating he sustained, he has a few fractured ribs and a fractured left wrist but the most serious was a splenic rupture. We felt the bleeding into his abdominal cavity was life threatening, therefore, it was necessary to remove the damaged organ, fortunately, there is no evidence of any other internal injury."

The doctor paused to gather his thoughts. "His head injuries concern us the most at this time. He'll be in the Critical Care Unit for the next couple of days where he will be closely monitored. Hopefully, we'll know more by then." He hesitated for a moment, knowing the information he bestowed upon the officer's friends was not what they hoped to hear. "I know this is difficult and I wish I had more encouraging news."

"Will he be all right…I mean, without a spleen…my God…and brain surgery…you're not saying there could be some kind of permanent damage?" Faith worriedly asked. "Are you?"

The doctor answered sympathetically. "I know you all have a lot of questions but we can't worry about what could or might happen. The important thing to remember is that he got here before any more time elapsed and we were able to help him. He's healthy and in excellent physical condition, a definite plus for a positive recovery."

"Please… I need to see him…just for a minute?" Faith pleaded.

"He'll be in the recovery area for some time yet. I realize its hard right now but you should all get some rest…even if you choose do it here. I'll have one of the nurses keep you posted on how he is and you will be allowed to visit him for a minute or two when he's moved to the CCU."

"Thank you Doctor. One of us will be in the lounge down the hall at all times." Swersky replied.

"I sincerely hope the police department is able to apprehend whoever did this to him." The physician added as he turned to leave.

It was a long day but despite her coworkers coaxing, Faith refused to leave Mercy, even for a short time, until she could see Bosco. Since Rose couldn't be there, she had to be. Fred came by for an hour to take her to the cafeteria, which she only agreed to because Sully was available for any updates. She was overcome with exhaustion and after her husband left, she fell into a restless sleep on one of the chairs in the corner, resting her head against the wall.

Although it wasn't easy, Swersky convinced Davis and Sullivan to go home for awhile. They were both scheduled for duty in less than thirty-six hours, and, he reasoned, the exhausted, currently off-duty police officers would not do Bosco any good when he woke up. He assured the officers that someone would be with Faith when he couldn't be.

A nurse finally came by to inform the room's occupants that Bosco was in the CCU. Swersky gently woke the sleeping officer and gave her the news. Faith was greatly relieved to hear it but apprehensive as to how she would cope with seeing him in such a critical state.

She took a moment to gather herself together before she entered the thick double doors. She wasn't prepared for what she saw when she entered the unit. The hissing of oxygen hoses and beeping of various monitors filled the otherwise quiet area. Two other patients occupied the large, intimidating room as well.

She approached Bosco's bedside, her heart breaking with each advancing step. He was hooked up to several machines, each one with the sole purpose of sustaining his existence or monitoring his condition. She was taken aback by his badly bruised face and bandaged head. She sat on the vinyl chair next to his bed and took his hand, which felt colder than she expected. As she sat there, she swore to herself that Vincent Leonard, no matter where he was, would pay dearly for what he had done.

* * *

It was a beautiful, sunny day and Davis couldn't help wishing his mood could match the balmy weather. He gathered a few items from his bedroom and placed them into his gym bag. The few hours of sleep he got were not as helpful as he had anticipated. He kept thinking he would miss an important phone call from the Lieutenant if he were in a deep sleep. 

He never imagined that he would be spending his off time at Mercy, worrying about the well being of another officer, but there was no where else he wanted to be.

Even though he was still tired, the four hours he slept helped somewhat, getting more than that was the last thing on his mind. He didn't want to leave the hospital but he knew it would be the only way the Lieutenant would take some time also.

He couldn't get the awful image of his friend's battered body out of his head. When he first saw Bosco at the docks, he was convinced the man was dead. There was no way any human being could survive those injuries; but then again, Boscorelli wasn't just any body. If anyone he ever knew had a strong and unrelenting will, it was Bos. The guy was not a quitter.

He picked up a hooded sweatshirt and his keys, locking the apartment door behind him. He was anxious to get back to the hospital hoping to hear some good news when he got there. Although he was eager to get back on patrol with the rest of the force and participate in the search for Leonard, his first priority was to be at Mercy with Yokas. If anything bad happened, she couldn't be alone. With Bosco's mother out of town and his brother and father no shows, his co-workers at the five-five were all he had.

* * *

Faith's routine for the next couple of days remained mostly the same. She split her time between the hospital and home, taking an additional day off at Swersky's insistence. 

She had gotten use to the unnerving alarms the various monitors emitted at particular times during her visits. At first, she was convinced the unwelcome sounds signaled impending doom for Bosco. He had a high fever brought on by an infection that concerned his surgeon and kept the staff on full alert. It was of no comfort overhearing two of the CCU doctors discussing that his potential recovery could go either way during that period.

As hopeless as his prognosis seemed at times to everyone else, Faith was always sure that her partner would pull through.

When she spoke to the surgeon the evening of the third day, he was carefully optimistic. Bosco was off the breathing machine, a good sign. His blood pressure and other vital statistics were now stable and not supported by medications. What they hoped and prayed for now was for the unconscious patient to awaken.

Faith was finally able to contact Rose, who had been trying to get in touch with her son since her return. Upon her arrival to the hospital, a visibly shaken Mrs. Boscorelli couldn't stop blaming herself for being away and having a wonderful time while her Maurice was in such dire condition. She was constantly by his side whenever she was allowed to visit, first in the Critical Care Unit, then in the Intensive Care Unit. She was immensely appreciative for the emotional support from Faith and the rest of the force.

Faith returned to work four days after Bosco's surgery. As much as she would have preferred to spend more time at the hospital, she knew her assistance in Leonard's apprehension would be more beneficial to her partner. She always stopped by Mercy before and after her shift, and most days, sometime during meal break. Her visits enabled Rose to take short breaks, which she didn't want but Faith and the staff insisted upon.

While she sat with her partner and held his hand, she spoke soothingly to him, the nurses encouraging her to do so. Everyday she came, she hoped it would be the day he would finally wake up. The most recent tests showed that the swelling was beginning to subside. The doctor's latest prognosis was encouraging but nothing would mean more than to see her partner open his eyes and acknowledge her.

That finally happened on the ninth day during her break time visit. She was just about to leave for a minute to use the restroom when she heard her name uttered. It was a mere whisper but there was no mistaking his voice. She rushed to his side, as did the ICU nurse on duty, who promptly summoned the physician on call.

"Hey…" Faith quietly greeted her partner. "Welcome back Bosco…we were all so worried about you." Her elation evident to anyone who would have been there. She held his hand and was rewarded with a slight squeeze. The small gesture as he acknowledged her presence warmed her breaking heart.

"What…happ…?" He forced the words, his voice weaker than he would like. His throat parched and sore.

"Shhhh Bos…you're all right…you're recuperating at Mercy." She gently answered, as the doctor on call entered.

"Welcome back Officer Boscorelli. You gave your friends quite a scare…" He continued to speak to her partner as a nurse led Faith to the near-by-waiting area.

While she waited for the doctor to examine Bosco, she called the precinct and gave Lieutenant Swersky the much-anticipated news. She also phoned Fred, who was genuinely happy for the promising update, assuring him she'd be home after her shift.

As she made her way to the cafeteria to tell Rose her son was awake; tears of relief began to flow from her weary eyes. Her prayers were answered. Her partner was awake and she knew he would be all right.

* * *

As the days passed and each one brought more certainty for a full recovery, Bosco began to recollect bits and pieces of his brutal encounter with the wanted fugitive. His short-term memory was affected by the ordeal, and even though there was major improvement in his recollection of the attack, he was still unclear about the majority of the time he spent with the vicious killer. He relayed everything he remembered to Swersky and the detectives on the case. Since the crime was originally classified as a kidnapping, there was also some brief FBI involvement, nevertheless, all the time and effort put into the investigation by the authorities wasn't enough to apprehend Leonard. 

The following weeks were a hectic sucssession of doctor appointments and getting himself fit for duty. He started running as soon as he was given the okay from his surgeon and spent most of his time working out or practicing at the range. Some days were more difficult than others, and if he pushed himself too hard, the random headaches he now suffered reminded him to slow down, however, nothing could deter him from getting back to work as soon as possible.

He dropped by the precinct often and even sat in on roll call a few times, all the while anxious to return to active duty.

His sleep was frequently interrupted by recurring nightmares of Leonard and sometimes of another individual's presence. After awhile, he wasn't sure if what he remembered was factual or part of an awful dream.

He was finally cleared for full duty almost four and a half months after the attack. He tried to put the brutal encounter behind him. There was nothing to be gained by dwelling on it; nonetheless, he would never stop scrutinizing the face of every individual he came into contact with. He swore if he ever-crossed paths with the lunatic again, he would be ready for him.

* * *

Lieutenant Andrews sat at the old mahogany table on the well-worn leather chair his late wife had given him years earlier. His simple yet efficient office at One Police Plaza could not compare to the elaborate one the Group rented near Central Park in one of the City's newly renovated high-rises, yet, he preferred the present location to the latter one. 

He stared at the muted television screen, the evening news broadcasting another senseless murder committed sometime during the previous night, a crime being investigated by detectives at the thirty-eighth precinct.

He reflected on all the favorable deeds the Group had accomplished during the past few months.

Since Leonard's demise, the team had the good fortune of terminating a major gang member who ordered the execution of a young woman who was a witness to one of his heinous crimes. They also intervened on behalf of a rapist/murderer who had eluded the City for weeks. Two less court cases the dedicated but overworked DA's office would eventually have to prosecute, not to mention the staggering tax dollars that would be saved on trials and imprisonment, but even more significant, two less scum-bags to wreak havoc on his beloved City. He briefly pondered the dozens of worthless lives sacrificed to save countless of worthwhile ones and knew there could be no other alternative.

The Lieutenant turned up the volume, wondering if any other members of the Group were watching the broadcast.

* * *

The driver of the police cruiser was completely focused on the speeding '88 Lincoln Continental he chased through the moderately busy street. The RMP's lights and sirens signaling its approach to any unsuspecting motorists and pedestrians. The squad's passenger maintained constant radio contact while casting an occasional look of concern in the driver's direction. It wasn't the health or well being of her partner that concerned her at the moment, but that of her own. 

While he negotiated the squad with his usual expertise, she noticed his desire to apprehend the reckless individual was more ambitious than usual.

"Bosco!" Faith cried out, louder than she expected to, sure he didn't see the taxi cab approaching the intersection.

"I see it Faith!" He snapped back, never taking his eyes off his prey. "Is it clear?" He asked, somewhat annoyed that he had to inquire.

"Yeah, just be careful, alright!" She demanded, relaying their location to Central as Bosco rambled off a few expletives at the uncooperative driver ahead of them.

"…ucking jag-off!" Her partner shouted out of his window as they caught sight of 5-5 Charlie joining in the chase.

Even though the search for Vincent Leonard was still active, thus far, all leads had been extinguished. It seemed as though the fugitive had disappeared from the face of the earth. For all she cared, the son-of-a-bitch should be rotting away in the bottom of the Hudson. On second thought, that was too good of an ending for the murderous bastard.

Bosco's last vivid memory of that night was the confrontation at his apartment. He didn't like talking about it and she didn't force the issue but she made it known that if he ever needed to, she was there to listen.

He never brought up being at the docks, leading her and everyone else to believe he didn't remember the whole incident. The doctors had no way of knowing if the memory loss was temporary or permanent, however, Bosco did confide to her that the police psychologist suggested that his selective memory could be some sort of defense mechanism his mind regressed to in order to forget the terrible ordeal. Whatever the reason, she was glad to be in 5-5 David with him once again.

"Don't you just love this Faith?" His unexpected gleeful comment brought her back to the situation at hand.

"Obviously not as much as you do!" She answered. "Just get us back to the House in one piece! Okay?" Her statement was more of a demand than a request.

It had been a long convalescence but everything was once again as it should be. After days of uncertainty, weeks of recovery, and months of healing, her partner was finally back on The Job!

* * *

At that same moment, a middle aged, dark haired man looked upon the commotion from his private balcony as it passed by his building. The cops hadn't been a problem for him so far and he planned to keep it that way. 

Donald Mann entered the living room of his penthouse, closing the glass doors behind him.

THE END

* * *

Thank you to all who took the time to critique. It means a lot and kept me going to finish. As you can see, it took over a year from beginning to end. 

I did have an idea for a new fic but since the TV series is now history, it's kind of difficult to focus on another story, but I'll have to wait and see.

Please recommend this fic to others who you think might be entertained by my musings. Once again, many thanks to all, especially the following. I appreciate your generous reviews and always looked forward to them!

A Person

Faerie Summers

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Abby

47th Spirit

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Please give a final critique and thank you so much for reading!


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